On Monday I quietly celebrated in my heart the fact that my son had been clean 24 hours longer than ever before. The days leading up to it I hung on as tight as I could to hope that he would make it. He has not made it past 5 months clean since this battle ensued many many months ago. Matter of fact I wouldn’t even speak about it. I refused to.
In my heart of hearts I wanted to believe he would make it and keep going. With nearly every fiber of my being I was holding out for it. But I would be remiss if I didn’t speak to the other few fibers, the fibers of fear and doubt. (The fibers that suffer from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.) The ones that are that small voice I hear in my head when I haven’t heard from him, or when I do hear from him. Those fibers that want to scream… PLEASE NO… NOT A RELAPSE!!!
I want the majority of the Fibers of my Being to celebrate each day that he stays clean. I have learned from a friend of mine that though the milestone days are great victories, the real victory is the battle they fight daily, when the day is done and they lay their head down for the night, if it’s been a day that they have lived clean and walked in Recovery it is a day to celebrate!
In this mother’s heart I will keep silent track of each new milestone (like the 6 month mark just a few days before my birthday) But I will keep ever before me that the greatest of victories is never further away than the end of the day lived clean.