Some Thursday Truth!

Some days I find myself so wrapped up in Chad that I forget about....me. Things about me....the good, the bad, and the ugly. The silly, corky, off the wall and funny stuff. The little things, the simple things.... about ME. So today, I'm giving a little "Thursday Truth" about Mindy and will try to remember to do so on a frequent basis. Here it goes:

• I LOVE baby feet. Those precious, perfect, tiny little body parts that grow to a size fit too our own and will hold us up or let us fall in this thing we call life. For me, they are the sweetest feature on a newborn baby.



• I use entirely too much bath and dish soap. What can I say, I like bubbles. LOTS of bubbles and the more bubbles there are, the cleaner the object is.



• I refuse to walk on grass bare-foot. I know, call me weird. It's one of my "corky" truths. But since I'm speaking of the truth...I see no tranquility, nothing relaxing, and certainly nothing exciting about walking on or rubbing my feet through each bristle where animals AND humans tend to dispose of their waste no matter how soft it may be! It boggles my mind to hear people say "how good it feels". I guess if you like stepping in shit, on accident or not, or stepping in areas where pee, vomit or anything else might lie within the grass and its roots than gooooo for it, and ENJOY.



• I am highly addicted to cuticle oil. It's to my nails what Dr. Pepper is to my sanity.....IMPERATIVE. Not to mention it does wonders for my nails.



• I once went to a club only to come home and find out that I had a HUGE hole in my very favoritist pants. At least 8-10 inches long. Who KNOWS how long I walked around not having the slightest idea that my right ass cheek was open for public display. And while I was in shock that I actually didn't realize it until I made it home that night, I was more upset about those pants that at the time were my very favorite. Completely unfixable.

Well there you have it for today. My blog is very sad and probably not the routine for somebodys daily reading, that is, if anybody reads this. So hopefully these little truths might have made you smile....or laugh...or think damn this girl is crazy! It's a bonus if you got all three.

Happy 61...or so I thought.

It was dads birthday yesterday. Sweet 61 he turned, but it wasn't too sweet of a day for him. I called him in the morning to wish him a happy birthday, but he didn't answer. So I left a message telling him so and that I loved him. I went on to get me and his presents ready for the day.

Dad's oldest brother passed away this last summer. The last time he was here, somebody took a great picture of them all together as brothers and sisters, minus my dad's baby brother who died 15 years earlier of suicide. I thought it would be awesome to enlarge the photo and put it in a nice frame for dad to hang in his newly finished basement. And then of course, there was a bag of Raisinets, his FAVORITE! I highly disagree on the taste of them. Chocolate covered peanuts, you have me, but raisins? No way!!

As a few hours went by, dad never returned my call. I wondered if we were still on for dinner and couldn't get a hold of anybody to find out. I called dad again, no answer. I called his wife, no answer. Totally out of character for my dad to not answer his phone or return the missed calls. So I made one more attempt to dad's wife's daughter. Dinner was still on according to her but I didn't want to just show up since I hadn't heard anymore about it from her mom. Dad's wife called. Dinner was still on, but dad woke up in a not so good mood. He wasn't answering his phone, he didn't want to talk to anybody, he didn't do his weekend grocery shopping routine with her, he was mad that she planned anything for his birthday and had invited the family to celebrate. He was just pissed.

He was so different last year. We all went to Vegas for his 60th birthday and HAD A RIOT. I suppose with all that has happened in the last year with Chad, dad is living with a broken heart and sees nothing remotely happy about celebrating his day. For him, it's just another day, another day closer to death.

I was pretty devastated to hear how grouchy he was. After all, I was excited to see him and give him his present and just be with everybody. AND...actually get to go outside with the nice weather. But I questioned whether we should even go or not. Does he want us there to celebrate his birthday? Than again, my oldest is leaving Saturday, so I of course wanted him to see his grandpa before he left for who knows how long again. I just wasn't sure what to do.

I went. Walked into dads house and there he was, in his spot, on the couch. I was hesitant to say too much, not knowing what I would get back. I gave him his present and said happy birthday. He loved the picture! "D" sat on the couch with him and I figured it would be a good thing for dad to have some "manly" bonding time. Maybe that would relax him, so I hung out in the kitchen with the girls.

As family showed up and hours went by, dad loosened up a little. He even smiled when he blew his birthday candles out. We had a GREAT dinner. Steak, baked potato's, cooked carrots (HIT OF THE DAY I must say), salad and Better Than Sex cake (HIT #2). Chattering going on every which way, the boys outside playing catch, and some family time that sadly for me, doesn't happen very often.

Chad had called earlier in the day but I missed his call. I knew, that he knew, it was dad's birthday and we would be at his house, so I knew he would call back. I stayed for as long as I could, hoping Chad wouldn't forget to call since I'm the only one who can talk with him by phone. Nobody else has set their phones up or their numbers have been denied for whatever reason. It's quite the process getting approved for anything where an inmate is concerned. Right as I was getting ready to leave, the call came in. Dad got to talk to his boy on his birthday and "T" and "B" got to talk to their brother who they haven't spoken to since at least last summer, before everything happened.

I was so happy Chad called, just in the knick of time. Dad got to actually hear the words "Happy Birthday" in Chad's voice. I hope it mended dad's heart for just a minute or two. I know my dad is hurting. I know he carries an unexplainable amount of guilt as far as Chad is concerned. Chad is one of his own, the one who is in prison for the rest of his life for taking another's life. The one who was plagued with drug addiction. The one who had so many opportunities, so much going for him, and let it all go because he was addicted to drugs.

The reality of who Chad could have been and what he could have done vs. who he is now and what he did, has changed dad for the rest of his life. It eats him alive. I try as much as I can to let him know how much I love him and how grateful I am that he is the one I call dad. But I also know his heart has been torn apart, not just by Chad, but by many things over the years. He's fed up. He's tired and I know at times he would much rather be gone than have to deal with the in and outs of everyday.

I enjoyed my Sunday afternoon/evening with my dad and the rest of the family but I cried myself to sleep, wishing he wasn't so hurt over so many things. Thinking of how things might be different today, the here and now, had life's downfall's in the past not unraveled what we all knew and were accustomed too as children. Hoping that having the rest of us there meant just as much to him as if Chad would have been there. Sometimes I feel like even though he still has 4 other kids besides Chad, it's just not enough for him. I don't doubt my dads love for me. But he's broken and he's bitter. He's 61 and had enough.

I understand dad's pain. I know the hurt....the anger....the disbelief and frustration Chad's addiction has caused him. I know what I feel as his big sister. But I am also a parent. And as the mom to my two boys, I know how powerful the love of is for your own. I want my boys to be happy and enjoy life. Be who they can be and follow their dreams. I want nothing more than for each of them to reach for the sky and earn all they deserve. Just like my dad wanted for Chad along with the rest of us. So it's no wonder the cuts remain open for my dad when he is faced everyday with the fact that his son, Chad, was a heroin addict who has been convicted of armed robberies and homicide, and is now spending the rest of his life in the prison system.

Regardless of how dad was feeling on his much deserved celebration of life day...his birthday, I love him with all I have. He has contributed beyond belief to the woman I am today. He has been my rock when at times I had nothing else to hold me up. He is who I call when I'm in the dumps or simply just to say "hi dad". So for every ounce of hurt or anger he had in him yesterday, I still hope he had a "Happy Birthday" and knows how much his first born, me, loves her daddy.

Road trips!

Spring has FINALLY sprung in my region of the world and we have hardly gone without a day of rain. It's been a challenge trying to get certain projects done like doing my back yard. Most of the time it's to wet to get the tiller out and going. Some days it's so nice and then the days of rainy downpours begin for days on end. I'm really not complaining. It's nice not having to water the lawn or run the swamp cooler and pay for those luxuries when I can get them for free with the cool breeze's that whisp around and the raindrops that drop from the heavens. Summer will be here soon enough and I know I will than be wishing for winter once again.

This is my fruitless plum I planted on the side of my home. Yes I need too and WILL be working on this part of my yard soon enough, so for now, ignore the weeds por favor. I love the pink flowers that blossom every spring and the hint of sweetness it gives away. But most of all I love the story behind this tree of mine.

It was April of 2008 when I purchased this tree. It was the very first tree I bought for my yard since moving in eight months earlier, and I was filled with excitement to play in the dirt and start accessorizing my front yard with trees, plants, and flowers. It was also the month that Chad was to be released "any day" after spending 2 years in the county jail for the pharmacy robberies he committed.

On my way home from buying my tree, which by the way was hanging from the trunk of my eclipse, an unknown number rang my cell phone. "Hello." "Come get me." It was my Chad calling. He was out!!! He had finally been released to freedom once again and oh how I was so excited to see him, face to face, without glass separating us. The day had finally come!!

Instead of taking my tree home, I turned my car around and it made the journey with me. I kept telling my tree to just hang in there as it was being whipped by the wind while I travel to the destination of jail, 30 minutes away, 75 miles an hour. I kept thinking my tree was going to die from either the wind or from the trunk bouncing on it from the bumps in the road, but it would have to be strong because I was on a mission. The mission I had long awaited for.

I pulled into the gas station where he said he would be. I remember looking all over the place for him and then in a quick blink, there he was, lying on the grass in a pair of clothes that didn't belong to him. Not even parking my car, I jumped out and ran to him. He scooped me up and whirled me through the air as he hugged me in his typical fashion. Talk about Kool-Aid smiles. I remember Chad saying, "take me home so I can get out of these wrinkled clothes." Off we went. Homeward bound we were, me, him and my tree.

It was the first time Chad saw my new home. He loved it and loved having his very own room. Sadly, not many inmates leave jail to a nice home with a room they can call their own. Chad had it so good so many times, if he could have only realized. After showing off my little brick house, he went through some things in his room. He came across the obituary I had saved for him. It belonged to a friend who had died earlier of an overdose. Tears streamed down his face at the heartbreak of losing his friend and never being able to say good-bye. I let him be to absorb his pain and adjust to the outside life he was facing to live in.

My little tree was a trooper and made it. I got her planted and slowly she progresses with growth every year. She blooms more each spring and seems to be prettier and prettier every time. It's a constant reminder of the small road trip we both endured and happiness I had on that April day.

I haven't seen Chad in about a month. The last weekend I planned to see him, the prisons were put on lock down. There were three violent incidents at one of the other prisons in the state, one leading to the fatality of another. Because of the rise in violence, the prisons were locked down and all visitation was cancelled until further notice. It's finally been lifted and I will plan another road trip once again. I have spoken with him though and he's doing well!!!!!

Life has been extremely busy. My oldest has completed his second year of college. I cannot believe he has already done two years of college. Time is flying by quicker than I want it too. I made the trip to pick him up but unlike last year, I did it alone this time. Driving through the canyons and over the hill tops I laughed and cried over the memories from the last trip doing the very same thing......only with my dad and Chad.

That morning started with Chad and I sitting on the front porch waiting for pops. He is ALWAYS on time but wasn't this morning. I was almost ready to call him for the "status of his location"....lol....when suddenly he came rolling around the corner. Both Chad and I laughed as we tapped on our wrists pretending as if we had a watch because he was TEN minutes late. He rolled his window down and we both said laughingly "you're late". He smiled back at us and said "oh whatever, get in the truck".

Dad had packed us cookies, muffins and Gatorade's just like he used to pack snacks for us when we would go fishing in our early days. I by far have the best dad one could ever wish for. My heart holds such a special place for this man I call dad. Chad took the front seat with dad and I took the back. It was surely going to be a day of laughs and bugging because I was going to make it that way. It was almost like I knew there would come a day when I couldn't make memories with the three of us together again so I was gonna make it worth my while and I did.

We both love the movie "Step Brothers" so I wanted to do to Chad what Dale and Brennen did to each other. Pick pick and pick. So the road trip turned into giving Chad wet willy's, pulling his hair, tickling his ears, putting my feet in his face and ears. Yes, I was the pestering sister that wanted nothing more than to make us laugh and do things that we hadn't done to each other since we were little kids. Dad referred to us as children of the corn, LOL. He laughed at the two of us instigating the other and wondering how he's made it all these years with his crazy kids and the things they did and still do to each other, even at 27 and 38. I'm sure by the time dad dropped us home that night he was more than happy to get rid of us. My plan was accomplished!!!!!

It was a very quiet trip this time around. Just me, once again, on the same road to pick my twenty year old up. The lake is still frozen, snow still packs the mountains and the rivers and streams are rushing for time as the run-off fills their beds. I'll be sure to insert pictures soon.

I thought about both of my boys and pray so much that they will never dabble with drugs. I'm truly frightened beyond repair I think. I know how I've raised them, I know the mother I am to them and I know the values I've tried to instill in them. But I can't be there with them every minute of the day. I can't be there to say NO or please don't when and if the opportunity of hell comes to their lap. I can only keep praying and keep talking to them in hopes that the choices they make will be the right ones and that they will never fall victim to a drug addiction.

There were two more major drug busts this last week in different counties of the state. Counties very close by mine. Twenty three people arrested in one encounter, three in the other. How sad and angry I feel for those as they are guided by law enforcement in hand-cuffs. They are so lost and so controlled by the money and highs heroin or any drug provides. It's honestly just sickening. I remember when I was a little girl.... if you used heroin, you were doing the BIG stuff. It was hard to get, expensive, and seemed to be the "extreme" if you were using it.

These days, it's nothing to get a balloon and it's CHEAP. It's everywhere! Buying heroin is as easy as buying ice-cream from the ice-cream truck. I can walk down the street in my neighborhood and find it just like I could in the ghettos of town. Heroin is not prejudice in who it picks. It goes after anybody and anyone that is willing to use it. It takes the soul out of its shell and slowly chisels it's way through the hearts of families as they watch their addict dwindle away too nothing but a junkie. It pisses me off honestly.

In other news, Lacey has figured out that the bed we bought her for Christmas is exactly that, her bed. She has always slept with us, fault of my own, and it has definitely been a challenge working out the sleeping arrangements. But the switch has turned on and she is now sleeping in her own bed, Lacey's bed. I guess I owe a thanks too Grizz and Odie, my nephews dogs. By bringing them here for visits and them plopping themselves in her bed when they're all tuckered out, might just have been the wake up call for Lacey to realize what the definition of a bed is. I must admit I miss having her cuddled up at my feet or in the bend of my knees but it's also been wonderful not wrestling for space and her winning every time.

Life is good and I'm moving forward. Enjoying the days of spring and rain. I'm a busy girl with lots on my plate but I'm taking it for what it is, one breath at a time, one day at a time and being grateful for it all. I will be taking another road trip next weekend to Grand Junction, Colorado where I will be dropping my college boy off as he embarks on another chapter in his life. Working and summer college classes in Denver. He is a free spirit and not afraid to take on new beginnings. Spring has definitely sprung. New life, new beginnings.

Triggers!!

I suppose for the rest of my life I will have what I refer to as "triggers". I explain them as things that trigger memories of Chad. Some of them hit me harder than others. Like for instance, last week on the news a story broke of a "39 year old female found dead in her apartment". I was on my couch looking at my phone when I heard the reporter say that sentence and it hit all too close to my heart. Those were the same words I read on the news's website I frequent on October 4 of last year. The day "her name" was found in her apartment dead. I know my heart stopped beating when I heard that sentence again. My mind went back in time too that day, 7 months ago, when my life was hit with the hardest reality check I'd had in a long time, if ever!

I could only say to myself inside how glad I was the manhunt wasn't on for my brother this time but oh how I know what her family is getting ready to face and the heartache that will fill their lives from the moment of notice onward. I hope God will help each family and heal them the best they can be healed with a tragedy such as this.

I'm triggered every single day I look to the north of my home. There sits another home, a drug house that met Chad with open arms when he was released from jail the first go around. They are all pill poppers and heroin addicts themselves. One brother used so much acid back in the day that his brain is fried. Another brother is the drug dealer in the home, doing his drug deals at night. I refer to him as a hermit because he NEVER comes out. I honestly can't remember the last time I saw him and when he does come out he is grossly pale from no outside light. He looks like powder. It is now my understanding that he himself is using much more than he used too. So much so that he's paranoid and walks around the house with a gun around his waist. And guess what could end up in his crossfire should he ever go off? MY HOUSE! Not to mention that Chad was able to get pills from him and never paid him so if he really wanted to get crazy (which I hope he doesn't) he could do something ridiculously stupid and aim at me or my home.

Then there is the little sister who refers to herself as a "hood rat". This happened to come out late Saturday night as she mozeed to my house and stood outside talking with my boyfriend and his friend while drinking a beer. She is also a heroin addict who has supposedly been clean for 4 months. 20 years old with an almost 2 year old baby boy. Man is locked up, she is scared of her gun strapping brother, she informed my boyfriend of things she supposedly "let Chad do to her" (she is damn lucky I was asleep), and told my boyfriend he has sexy lips. I had to laugh about it all and think how sad for her and her son. What a life to be proud of at 20 years old.

I planted a magnolia tree up against the fence that separates our homes in hopes of it growing so big I don't have too see that house as often as I do right now. It is beyond me why the house has yet to be raided by police officers and taken down. Just beyond me. The drug dealing is so obvious and with summer right around the porch steps, things are certainly going to heat up for some summer "high times".

Then there was the story this weekend of a huge heroin bust resulting in the arrest of 8 people, $80,000, and HUNDREDS of balloons filled with heroin ready to distribute. Our heroin problem in this state is FAR out of control. It's easy money and a beautiful high too many. It's so devastating to hear the statistics our state faces along with the number of lives and sadness this demonic drug has control of. It's horrifying and what I wouldn't give to put MY hands around the throats of the dealers and take the very breath out of them as they have the millions of families who has had to endure the pain of a loved one's addiction.

Forgiveness

Definition: the process of concluding resentment, indignation or anger as a result of a perceived offense, difference or mistake, and/or ceasing to demand punishment or restitution.

Pretty powerful I think, and one of the hardest things to do. I remember growing up and hearing people say "forgive and forget" or my grandma or mom saying "Mindy, you need to learn to let go and forgive." For many years as a young, naive girl, I didn't believe in forgiving or forgetting or even letting go. That was ABSURD. How do you forget the pain one has caused you? Ridiculous I thought. If you wronged me, you wronged me and that was it. I was never a fighter when I was younger. When I say fighter I mean a "physical" fighter. But I had a knack for holding onto words, emotions, and hurt feelings and that was my way of fighting back to those that caused those things in me. Slingin mud and throwing back in another's face what they did to me was my way of fighting. This hasn't just happened when I was a "young girl", but even as recently as 2 years ago.

But as the years have passed and the trials I have faced have come and gone, I have grown-up } in a sense { and maturity grew within me. I have realized how short life really is. I don't want to be remembered as a crass, mean girl who could never forgive anybody for anything. I learned in my life's ups and downs that forgiveness is really the only way to move forward. It doesn't mean that I forgot the issue at hand that I forgave, it just means I have learned to live without it stopping ME from living. It's a VERY hard task to accomplish but when I did it, my soul was free from that pain in a way.

We ALL make mistakes. Some are little, some are HUGE. We all carry skeletons in our closets. We all have regrets. But holding onto what we've done bad in our past will only hold us down in our future if we don't consciously forgive. And forgiving is not just about forgiving the one who wronged you, it's about forgiving yourself when you have wronged as well.

I forgive Chad for all he put me through. I forgive Chad for what he's done to land him where he is today. I just plain forgive Chad. And as hard as it is, I am trying to forgive myself for what I should have done but didn't in situations with Chad. I don't necessarily know what I really should have done, but if I didn't do it right, I'm slowly forgiving myself for it.

No I will never forget what the last 10 years have been like with him. I will never forget the call I got on October 4th from his probation officer. I will never forget the look in his eyes the last time I saw him outside of the corrections department. There are LOTS of never forgets I will live with for the rest of my life. But when I am reflecting on the times of disparity with Chad, I won't do so in an angry or cold fashion because I have forgiven him.

My heart will always be broken over my brother Chad and his slavery to drug addiction. My heart will always be broken for "her name" and her family. All I can do is move forward and hope that one day, Chad will forgive himself and that God will forgive him too.

There is no such thing as "Forgive and Forget". I still think that's an absurd saying. But you can forgive and rather than forget, remember why you forgave.

BOSTON

Boston by Augustana. A song that reminds me of the many times I just wanted to pick up and run away. Far, far away where nobody would know me, nobody would know my name. I didn't care how far away it was, just as long as I was far enough from my brother's addiction and the turmoil it flooded my heart with.

I have to say there were times, LOTS of times, when I was so SICK of his disease and the evil things it did and caused him to do, that I didn't want to hear about him ONE - MORE - TIME, unless I had a funeral to go too. And that was the damn truth. I didn't want to hear his crackly voice, I didn't want to see the pathetic look on his manipulative face, I didn't want to stare in his hollow puddles of heroin high (his eyes) and I didn't want to be around him for another breath of mine.

Those were the times of anger. Those were times when I had nothing left in me to hold onto. I didn't have one more ounce of energy to keep my brother alive. Times when I would get home and just throw my body on my bed and crunch my pillow into my soul asking myself and God, "what's next." Morning's when I would wake and wish I hadn't. Times when I would gasp for air from being so overwhelmed with Chad. I wanted to scream in his face GET OVER IT. STOP already!!! Quit killing yourself, me, and the rest of our damn family you selfish prick!! His body was withering away little by little but it wasn't fast enough anymore for me. He didn't care so why did I have to care so much? If he wasn't going to go, than I wanted too!!!! I wanted to run away.

Chad did wear the chains as mentioned in this song, the chains of an addict. But I wore chains too. And every chance Chad had, it seemed as if he pulled them a little tighter around my heart. I just wanted a break. I wanted freedom from those chains that held us both down. I wanted to run away and never look back and start all over from scratch. I didn't care if I worked in a little store, or even a bakery making dimes to live. If it were even remotely possible for me to do, me breaking those chains that had such a heavy hold on me would have been worth it all.

I had dreamt many times, sleeping and awake, that if I were able to do something like this, I would cut all ties for a while with everybody! Family and all. I wanted time for me, Mindy. I wanted to learn to breathe normally again. I wanted a normal heartbeat. Not one the stopped beating everytime something happened with him. I wanted to get out of the grind Chad's addiction reeled on me and let everything go...piece by piece.....just for a while. I wanted to be in a place where nobody knew ME or where I came from, who I was, or what I had been going through with my family and brother. I wanted to start over! I wanted to leave everything I knew behind and just be free. I simply wanted peace.

Snapping back into reality hurt. Knowing I couldn't just pack up me, myself and I and some belongings and head somewhere I didn't know. But gratefully I had a family that I adored and still do, children who are my absolute reason for breathing, and a pain in the ass brother who still needed me and crazily (not a word, I know but I liked it), I needed him too.

Maybe those dreams helped me get through some of the hardest times I had with Chad. Hearing this song and escaping in its words sure did. It would be so easy to just get up and run away in times of hardship. I mean shit, Chad did. He ran from reality and stuck a needle in his arm full of brown, sticky liquid to do it. But our chains, both his and mine, weren't so easy to be broken after all. Chains are made of links. He was the weak link and as much as I HATED it most times, I had to be the strong link when his was breaking apart.

So while I was having to be that strong link in the chains we wore together, and couldn't just pick up and go to Boston or anywhere else for that matter, my run away was to the words of songs, like this one. Music was my only way of starting over!

Should I....should I not???

It was a year ago at this time Chad was being released from jail. He had spent another 8 months for shoplifting and violating his probation. My dad was working with a case worker from the county jail trying to get him into an apartment. There is some type of program that helps inmates when they get out of jail/prison for pennies on the dollar compared to what the law-abiding citizens pay for rent or mortgages. It was a slow process and we were told that Chad would need to stay at the mission for the first few days he was out until they could get his apartment for him. Chad had made it clear to our sister that he was not staying at the mission. So being I was the only one in the family that would remotely think of taking him back, I was asked if I would let him stay with me until he could move into his own apartment. I did so but made it a point that I would only do it for a few days, until he got his own place. He wasn't too sure about my offer since we hadn't spoken in quite some time when I kicked him out for relapsing (regret)! But with the other option Chad was facing, he didn't have too much of a choice. I asked myself over and over and over again, should I do this or should I not? Should I let him back in my home, even if it is for a few days? Should I take another chance with him? Should I open myself and home to the risk it is having an addict living with me? What could a few days hurt? I got the call from my dad Chad was out. Dad dropped him off at the mall and I picked him up later that day when I got off work. I was anxious yet nervous to see him. It had been over a year since we spoke, since I last saw him. He walked out of the mall and I walked to him and just took him in my arms, as he did me. He was exhausted and looked it. He was a little apprehensive at first, cold...distant, but I knew it would take time for both of us. We went to TGIF for some dinner. Some REAL food I guess you could say. He kept telling me he wasn't hungry and not to worry about it but my stubborn self did it anyways. He had watched movies all day at the mall until I picked him up. I could tell in his face...his eyes...that he just wanted to lay down and get some sleep. On our way home I had decided all in about a matter of seconds that I was keeping my brother with me, for as long as it took. I wasn't going to let him go into an apartment by himself, with nobody to talk too. I felt as if he were too fragile to leave alone and the best thing would be for him to be with and around those who loved him. So all bets were off and I didn't care, he was staying with me and that was final. I was working two jobs to help support us. I had been working two jobs before Chad came home and continued to do so until he was able to get a job. He bonded immediately with my dog, Lacey. She was head over heels for her Chadly as he was her. It was so good to have her there because she kept him busy, kept him occupied and she gave him something to do. It was almost as if she were his therapy while home all the time.

Thanks to Chad, Lacey is now a HUGE fan of peanut butter. She can eat it by the spoonfuls. And she loves popsicle's.....thanks again to Chad. I sent a picture of Lacey to him. He wrote back saying how much he misses her. She was so good for him. There are many who come out of the system with absolutely nowhere to go but the rescue mission.....or the streets. I was asked by his P.O. why I took him back. My answer..."because he's my brother and I felt that if I would have let him go on the streets or to the mission, I might as well have just put the needle in his arm myself." Maybe I shouldn't have taken him back. Maybe the streets or the mission is where he needed to be. Lots of addicts go that route and it becomes their darkest moment, their rock bottom, their way out of their addiction if it's TRULY not where they want to be. I'll never know if Chad would have turned his life around and remained sober if I would have turned him away. I did what I did because it's what felt right to me. Yes it was a risk, yes it was difficult, yes it may have been the absolute wrong thing to do, but I did it and even though he didn't make it with his sobriety, I have no regrets with my decision. I got six more months with him. Six more months of memories, good and bad. Six more months of laughs, tears, hugs, pranks, foot-steps, breath, and "time" with my brother. It went by all to fast. Maybe the instinct I had when I decided so quickly to keep him with me was God's way of saying this is your last shot. I don't know, not sure if God had anything to do with it. But I'm grateful for the little bit of time I had left with him on the outside and THAT is something I thank the good Lord above for.