December 31, 2014
Tony told the group he’d stopped by to check on his dad. His dad was almost out of pain pills, three weeks early. He found brochures for headstones his mother had sent his father with a note reading “Hope you need one soon!”
“I tried to talk to her, but she hung up on me,” Tony said. “He wanted me to help him get Percocet. It was a mess, but I’m not ready to give up on them.”
"It's been decades since you decided to live with your dad. If your mom hasn't forgiven you, or your dad, by now, she probably isn't going to. Let it go. Your father doesn't seem at all interested in getting sober. Let that go, too. Every now and then I get the sense you really, really want to change your life. Grab onto that."
“I still don’t see why I have to let go of my parents to get sober,” Tony said.
“It’s like holding a cat. If that cat wants to be held all is peace and purring. Hold a cat that wants to get away and you’re likely to get scratched, badly. Besides, the more things you hold onto, the less securely you can hold any one of them.”
Today I will choose carefully what I cling to.
Relapse Prevention Group © 2014 by Ken Montrose