“If he breaks parole, expect the police to come knocking at your door!” This factoid was presented to me by my son. It was on the heels of discussing his brother. Nothing specific, mind you, but in generalities since the one in question had gone “underground.” We were wondering what would be the next event and while I was concerned about this relapse, welfare and safety, my son was concerned about what could happen to us.
“The parents are the first line of offense for Parole Agents since our address is the last noted lived-at-location,” he added. True or not, I reminded him that we have had plenty of experience with the police at our door. Though it has been a while since the last uniformed visit, much has changed since then. For one, I no longer live in fear of authority. I’m not the one breaking any laws. I quickly learned that I did not have to invite anyone into my house regardless of what badge and what county they may be representing. I’ve learned a lot about addiction and my relation to it. I have to accept new frontiers as I continue to grow and trust in my Higher Power. At the same time, I must accept my son’s right to deal with life “inside or outside” the walls. I don’t need to interfere or even begin to think I know what’s best. Parole may be one of the many phases of recovery, who am I to say? This wasn’t always my attitude. But I’m grateful for the people who take the recovery message to Hospitals and Institutions. It’s as if I have a feeling of resolve, knowing the message is being carried and the hope that maybe one day my son is willing and able to hear it.