Sandra Swenson - Tending Dandelions

What Mothers Everywhere Are Saying about Sandra Swenson

Finally, someone understands what it is to be the mother of an addict! I have been looking for a resource, a sense of hope, and found it.

DEBI

Sandy Swenson has helped me understand the difference between loving my son and enabling the addict.

MARSHA

Sandy puts into elegant and yet simple words EXACTLY what it is to be a mother of an addict. Im crying knowing that Im not alone in feeling all of this.

MAGGIE

Sandy continues to astound me with her gifts. She has changed the lives of so many of us with her astounding experience, strength, and hope.

ASHLEY

If you havent read Sandy Swenson yet, you must! Everything she writes will leave you saying, YESSSSSS ! I did that! I felt that!

DONNA

Sandy made me realize this story has not ended yet! This is not a perfectly wrapped up little package that can be put aside now. Sandys fight is not over. She has just found a way to deal with today. Tomorrow she might deal with it differently. Thank you, Sandy, for sharing your story. Unfortunately, I can relate only too well.

ANN

Hazelden Publishing

Center City, Minnesota 55012

hazelden.org/bookstore

2017 by Sandra Swenson

All rights reserved. Published 2017.

No part of this publication, either print or electronic, may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the express written permission of the publisher. Failure to comply with these terms may expose you to legal action and damages for copyright infringement.

ISBN: 978-1-61649-720-0

ISBN: 978-1-61649-721-7 (ebook)

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Names: Swenson, Sandra, 1959- author.

Title: Tending dandelions : honest meditations for mothers with addicted children / Sandra Swenson.

Description: Center City, Minnesota : Hazelden Publishing, 2017. | Identifiers: LCCN 2017017710 (print) | LCCN 2017033228 (ebook) | ISBN 9781616497217 (epub) | ISBN 9781616497200 (pbk.)

Subjects: LCSH: Parents of drug addicts. | Parents of alcoholics. | Meditations.

Classification: LCC HV5805 (ebook) | LCC HV5805 .S94 2017 (print) | DDC 362.29/13--dc23

LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2017017710

Editors notes

This publication is intended to support personal growth and should not be thought of as a substitute for the advice of health care professionals. The authors advice and viewpoints are her own.

Quotations at the end of meditations that do not have an attribution are from Sandra Swenson. The quotations at the end of pages are adapted from Sandra Swensons book The Joey Song (2014, Central Recovery Press).

The art on page .

COVER AND INTERIOR DESIGN: TERRI KINNE

TYPESETTING: TRINA CHRISTENSEN

DEVELOPMENT EDITOR: VANESSA TORRADO

PRODUCTION EDITOR: HEATHER SILSBEE

This book is dedicated to the parents living

in the place where love and addiction meet

a place where help enables and hope hurts.

For parents trying to figure out the difference

between helping their child live and

helping their child die.

For parents grieving the loss of a child

who is still alive. For parents needing to

find a recovery of their own.

You are not alone.

Hugs and hope,

Sandy

dandelion | noun | dandelion \'dan-d-'l-n\

[from Anglo-French dent de lion, literally, lions tooth]

: vibrant golden-yellow flower. underappreciated. thrives in harsh conditions. shabby tufts scatter the flowers of tomorrow.

: a weed or a wish, depending on point of view.

: strong. like a roar.

We may often feel fragile, but we are strong.

And we are many.

As mothers of children suffering with addiction, we do battle with a disease that oozes misunderstanding and shame. Alone and afraid, we try to do the right thingeven when were not sure what that right thing is. We try to hold our families and ourselves together, even when it feels like were falling apart. We feel every pain our child feels, no matter the distance (in miles or years). We try to carry on, even when our heart is breaking in two. But, as tired and tattered as we may be, like the deceptively delicate dandelion, we moms are made to persevere.

Together, were traveling a most unwanted, unanticipated, and unclear journeyfor a lifetime. Whatever happens next may or may not follow a neat or hopeful path. So, we all need to find our own inner dandelion; we all need to take a close look at the things we dont want to look atthe things lurking around in this place where love and addiction meetso were as strong as we can be. My wish is that the ponderments contained within this bookthe thoughts laid bare for you to think aboutwill help you achieve that.

Whenever I sit down to write, I write as a mom, as the mom of an addict, and, specifically, as the mom of a sona son who has not yet found his own recovery. I write as a mom who has begun her own recovery, though her son has not. My writing comes from deep within this particular mix. However, while the voice burbling up comes from the well of my own experience, it is intended to be a reflection of the heart and soul of every mother of an addict. It is intended to help put words to your own thoughts and feelings. To help you heal.

Recovery is a process we all share. Its not only for the health and well-being of our beloved addicts, but for our familiesand ourselvestoo. On the road to recovery, we pass through several stagessometimes again and again (and all cattywompus), and in our own good time. The ponderments on these pages, collected as a set of meditations, reflect those stages.

When addiction first takes root in our child, we may be completely unaware, but once weve heaved ourselves over the monstrous hurdle of realization, the recovery journey begins. We learn, we grow. We cry, we wilt. We learn the value of nurturing ourselves. We find strength, we bloom. And finally, like fields of frazzled flowers, we scatter seeds of truth and goodness, changing the dynamic of this place where love and addiction meet. One by one, and one after another, we are carried aloft by the hope, the help, and the beating hearts of other mothers who love a child suffering with addiction.

We may often feel fragile, but we are strong.

And we are many.

We have the power to overpower the destruction that addiction spreads.

The first time my child reached his dimpled little hand out for mine, I was there. And Ive tried to be there every time hes reached out to meand even when he hasntever since. Until, that is, my child became an addict. Addiction has made such a mess of things that Im no longer sure if I should be within range when he reaches out (or even when he doesnt).

I dont know if my help is hurting this child of mine. I dont know if I should stay silent or speak up. Im not sure how to love without doing the things that seem loving, or where to put the dreams and conversations and hugs that have gone unused and are piling up. I dont know how to fill my empty arms, or where to put my love for this child who says he hates me. My heart doesnt understand this place where love and addiction meetits all confused about what it means to be my sons mom.