About

Estranged and Confused. I can’t believe I’m here, trying to figure out how to blog so that i have a space to acknowledge what is happening in my life. In June of this year, my children put me in the category of an “estranged” parent. I’m not perfect, but the one role that I used to think came intuitively was being a mom. I thought as long as I loved them deeply and always did what I thought was best for them, it would all be ok. I pulled us through things I couldn’t imagine I had the strength to do. A marriage to a man that became addicted to opioids to start, and to this day I don’t know what other drugs he discovered. I became a single parent as his addiction grew and lost my partner over time, slowly he turned into someone I didn’t know and eventually after trying to save him for years, I had to save myself and my children. It took three years for me to make myself stronger physically, then mentally and emotionally to finally walk away. Three months after our divorce was finalized, I found him on my garage floor one day after taking too many drugs. I dragged him into my car and got him to the hospital and for a short time, I wasn’t sure he’d make it. He did, he woke up, but he was out of his mind. He left the hospital with an old high school friend and disappeared for three years. No child support, no health insurance, no presence in our lives.

I was a stay-at-home mom for a dozen years and had started working full time again. I worked in the office at a special needs school and earned $12.00 an hour when we divorced. I then went to work at a local law firm and eventually made my way back to the city, where I could earn more money. Nothing was easy. I didn’t earn enough to pay the rent in an crappy apartment, I couldn’t afford the most basic necessities and having food in the house for the kids was a challenge. I felt like I was stressed every second of the day. I was afraid every day and I prayed that somehow three of us would get through it.

I didn’t think my writing would take me back to that time, I think I’m trying to work my way through to today and maybe I’ll understand why, what I did or didn’t do that has left me estranged from my 30 year old daughter and 29. Year old son, his wife, and worst of all, my three year old grandson. Until May, I spoke to my daughter almost daily, I saw my grandson at least once a week and spent Fridays watching him while his parents worked.