.At twelve years old, my eldest son had just finished his first year of middle school—a time of significant growth and increasingly complicated academics, expectations, emotions, and relationships. He desired (and
demanded) privacy and independence like never before, which equally stung and assured me he was developing right on track. While we often struggled over homework assignments and bedtimes, over too much junk food and too many video games, there was never a doubt this sensitive, bright son of mine was a good kid. And one who had already witnessed so much in his twelve short years. Now two years into my recovery from alcohol addiction, my gratitude lists are lengthy and limitless, but at the top of each one is the gift of my being a sober, dependable mom. My love for my children has never wavered, but now rarely do my words, actions, or steady presence either. From the front passenger seat, my son looked up from his phone and over at me. “Adam’s mom wants to know if you can come, too. They have four tickets.” Despite my shy nature, which has held me back from many things in my 40+ years on this planet, my gut response was an immediate YES. I felt elated and honored to be invited, and although I didn’t know Adam’s mom too well, I’ve always enjoyed her friendly energy and easy presence.
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