Mother of an Addict

I am the Mother of an Addict This is not like being the mother of a child with cancer, diabetes, or aids This is not like being the mother of a child who is serving with honor in a foreign land This is not like being the mother of a child who lives no more and is mourned by all

I am the Mother of an Addict There are no marathons or fund raisers for this disease, no sweet girls selling cookies There are no flags flying, or bumper stickers to proudly acknowledge my child's deeds There are only tears and silent screams, what terror will the next knock or phone call bring

I am the Mother of an Addict I see my child and I am not glad, for though I ache to save him, with relief I let him go I see my child with fear and suspicion, as I hear all he says and I can but endlessly hope I see my child and wonder will I ever know him again, hold him again . . . see him again