Answered Prayers

OK, God I'm awake and I'm not real fond of your middle of the night awakenings. Even though I know this is going to be awesome when I'm done, I just want to remind you that I work 12 hours today, I trained for 8 hours yesterday for the chaplaincy training so I could go into the high schools and then I worked 6.5 hours at a boy's group home. But you win, I'm up, let's do this.

My head and heart are reeling from the last 16 days, the death of Robert has left me heartbroken and at the same time has opened our hearts and soul to a spiritual awakening and better understanding of who God is. As Elliott's words from 1-1/2 years ago ring in my ear, "sometimes the most merciful thing a loving God can do is take someone home and out of their torment", I wish I hadn't been so adamant in my beliefs that that would not happen. Perhaps I could have heard God clearer instead of being so sure what the outcome was going to be. Perhaps I would have gone ahead with the adoption of Robert instead of waiting until he put together 90 days sober. And perhaps when he was home for his birthday, which I am so glad we came home for those 10 days, I had this feeling that he should make out a will. Mind you, not that he had anything of worth, but just to simplify things in the end, but I was too closed minded to the idea that he would die that I refused to believe it necessary. God answered our prayers for Robert - that he would meet Jesus and he would be healed, but those answers came in a way that we did not expect - his death.

But obviously, God doesn't consult me and frequently answers prayers in a way I don't expect. And He certainly answered my prayers differently than I expected. Robert and I went to see "Blind Side" the movie, we wept together. Robert said, "that's like our story." We always knew we had an awesome story, almost a love story, to tell and I would tell him that our story would only make a good story if it had a happy ending. Nobody wants to read a tragedy. I believed that Robert would figure out sobriety, stay clean and sober, go to school, become successful and prosper and that would be a "great comeback" story. That his life story would affect 1,000's of peoples lives that he would inspire because of his own journey. That would be a story worth telling. But that's not what happened now is it. He left me here holding this bag of emotions and pain at his passing, and yet I have heard so loudly and clearly that my son's passing is not a tragedy at all because he has affected so many, many lives. At his memorial in Redding, we heard person after person stand and talk about what a difference he made in their life and how they pointed them to Jesus, I've seen the pilot for the reality TV show he was going to be on, and I know when that show airs on TV, that more than 1,000s of peoples lives will be touched by the story of his struggle with addiction. Robert somehow knew also, that he was a light bearer, people listened to him, he was brilliant and he had it within him to make a difference. We just didn't know it would be after he was gone. Nevertheless, he would be so happy and is so happy that lives are changed because he was here.
Robert and I talked frequently depending on his current state. We had come to an understanding that I would talk to him, sobriety or not, as long as he wasn't calling me when he was drunk or high. So, sometimes a few days would go by and sometimes a few weeks without hearing from him, which was counter balanced with when he was sober which was numerous calls throughout the day, "mother, where are you; are you ignoring me?" And then if I didn't meet his time schedule they would get bitchier, "well, if you're not going to talk to me, I don't know what bug went up your butt, fine then, I think I'll go cause havac" or some other threat or such. I would then text him, "simmer down, I'm at work. Hold your horses, I'll call when I'm off work". Of course, once he got you on the phone, he didn't want to let you go. "Don't go, I'm not done talking." Sometimes, he would be in monologue mode, there was no conversation there was only Robert ranting about something or sharing his excitement about something. Sometimes, I would set the phone down, let him rant on and on, picking it up every couple of minutes and saying, "uh, huh" and then setting the phone back down. I hope God doesn't do that when I monologue my prayers. Occasionally, I would let too much time pass and I'd pick up the phone to hear, "mother, mother, you did not hang up on me, did you? Mother!!!" I'd say, "of course not, I'm right here". And then he would be off and running again. I'm going to miss that routine.

We talked a lot about addiction and recovery. Robert said him and I were going to have a treatment house or a sober living house and show all those "bitches" how to do treatment right. I jokingly would say, "Yeah, we can call it "Big Mama's House". We would talk about what that would look like. We would encompass a whole body approach including his favorite healthy thing, cardio workout, into treatment and have better food instead of all those sweets he couldn't quit eating. I really believed that we would do that. He wanted to help other people get past their addictions. So many times, in the midst of his own struggles, he would leave to go help someone else. I would say, "you need to save yourself first Robert, it's not safe for you to go try and help someone else when you are still in the midst of your own addiction." He would reply that he was going to be OK, so and so really needed someone right now. He so desperately wanted to serve others, to make a difference in their lives, to give them a future and a hope when it was something so crippling for him to reach himself. He talked about he was going to be the best damn sponsor ever because no one would slip through the cracks or bull shit him about their using and such. He was going to be like Jules, whom he so dearly loved and admired. He was going to be honest, brutally honest, he was going to make his sponsees wake up, make better choices, quit relapsing, take responsibility for their life, have a life. He wanted them to know they could be anything they wanted to be, they were smart, bright, beautiful, loving and worthy, things he never completely believed about himself. I am hoping through this event, tragic as it feels for these first few weeks, that Robert's dreams and desires of making a difference to this community, that he loved, in regards to sobriety and recovery would come true. I pray that each one of you embrace a new commitment, determination, desire, a new dream, to seek out your sobriety with all your heart, soul, passion and all that is within you and not just follow after your childhood dreams but chase after them. He will look down from the highest heavens, with those big blue eyes and that beautiful, beautiful smile and say, "Heller, Halleluyer, Halleluyer!!"
Yep, that's my boy!