57. Mud v. Concrete
Gerry graduated, stayed sober for two weeks, and returned for an assessment to be readmitted.
“My mother OD’d,” he said. “This time she was serious, she almost died. I got drunk with my dad.”
“Now what?” I asked. “Are you still living with your sister?”
“I have to complete treatment here and go to a halfway house for six months. If I do, my sister will take me back and my uncle will hold my job for me. My dad wants me to move back home. He said it was my fault mom OD’d and I should move home to take care of her.”
“Mud or concrete,” I said. “You can land in the mud with your dad. It’ll be soft. Drink beer, eat benzos, live off the check from your dad’s share of the business. Or, you could land on the concrete. Spend a couple weeks in inpatient. Take a hard look at yourself and why you relapsed. Spend six months in a halfway house working on your recovery all day.”
“I know what you’re gonna say. If I land in the mud, I might never get out. I might sink into the couch with my parents. The concrete is a harder landing, but it’s part of a road that leads somewhere.”
“So which is going to be?”
Today I will choose the concrete over the mud.
Needles Not For Knitting is a work of fiction. Any resemblance between the characters and anyone you might know is purely coincidental.
Needles Not For Knitting (c) 2017 by Ken Montrose
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