Bridges
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What a precious two weeks in
Poulsbo, Washington, while I stayed with my son, Ben.
Ben and I had always been close;
we’d weathered some tough early years together. Ben, at thirty-five, a responsible
family man with the best computer job in the world, working for a toy company
where he went to work to play games, hit some extremely painful emotional times.
He chose to opt out of the pain. At that time, Ben pushed me out of his life
and, in retrospect, I’m glad he did so.
It took a while for our family to
piece through his lies and figure out what he was doing. Addiction is a
terrible thing. His addiction stripped my son of his job, his wife, his
daughter, his home, his health, possessions and self-respect.
I am proud to say that two-and-a-half
years ago, Ben hit bottom, changed direction and chose a different road on
which to walk. Jail wasn’t his “hitting bottom” but he was in jail when he
chose to climb the long, hard road to sobriety. This took courage I cannot even
imagine.
Kitsap County had instituted a new
program for drug treatment for people while incarcerated. Ben qualified for the
rigorous program, with hours of daily counseling sessions, group therapy,
meetings, and service work. My son finished out his jail time in the program,
months-long intensive work.
His first six months out of jail, he
continued the program in a group home. During this time, he was offered a job
but his counselor said, “No, I don’t want you to work a job; I want you to work
on yourself.”
And hard work that has been. Trust
is not an easy thing to rebuild once it is shattered. Slowly, Ben has evolved a
working relationship with Shea, his former wife. He has earned ever-increasing
time to spend with his daughter, Lexi.
Ben has built a new spirituality upon which to base his life.
He has found a solid support base of friends he can turn to for help. He has
reconnected with family.
Ben works a manual-labor job,
repairing and renovating houses for a man who may be the best boss in Kitsap
County. He has learned every phase of remodeling while building physical strength
and endurance. Because of his degenerated health, Ben arrives home from work exhausted,
yet he is determined to push through, to meet his obligations and support
himself and family.
His back-trail is littered with the
debris of his past, including bills, taxes, and medical expenses. It’s not
easy. He tackles them one-by-one as he is able. The trail ahead will be
cluttered with serious medical issues for a long time.
When I look into my son’s eyes, I
see love and determination and self-respect and pain. I see gratitude. He said
he experiences glimmers of what it might be to be happy again. He forges ahead.
None of this is easy for him. It is a long, tough road upon which he has
embarked.
I am grateful for Kitsap County’s
innovative approach to treatment that helped him get started on his road to
recovery. He’s definitely one of a lucky chosen few.
I am grateful my son changed directions, chose the harder
road. During this time, Ben began communicating with me once again. My recent
trip to Washington was the first time we’d been together in four years.
Every moment of time spent with Ben, my grand-daughter Lexi,
my forever-daughter, Shea, was a sweet gift. I treasure time spent with
Kristen, especially our afternoon mucking about, transplanting, gardening.
A poetry reading at the Poulsbohemian, a visit with Havre’s
Dick Looby in a Care Center in Bremerton, dinner and many talks with my
forever-friend, Gary as well as gallons of good Seattle coffee I savored with
other friends from my past years in Poulsbo, especially Al, Steve, Kathy and
Cass; all are experiences which will be treasured memories. I’d rather forget
the blackberry attack but life isn’t all sugar.
My son is back, only better. Only
someone who has been through similar trauma can understand what I mean by
“better”. Ben says it helps to have Kristen in his life, a woman who has had
similar past experiences and trials. And Deckard. “Despite his crazy hair shedding,” Ben told
me, “sometimes a doggy hug is what keeps you going at the end of a long day.”
Sondra
Ashton
HDN: Looking
out my back door
August 24,
2017
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