A Story of Recovery:

Protecting Abstinence No Matter What

After months of battling with my parents, trying to “case manage” their health and welfare needs, Adult Protective Services had to be called in. We had begun to notice that my father could not function on his own and my mother was starving because he was not feeding her and was denying her health care. My sick and depressed mother was removed from her home.

My stress level was unimaginable, as I tried to work and take care of my parents. My program came first though, even when it seemed like an impossible burden to go to AOWLs and weigh, measure, and pack my food. But Program created a structure, which along with my husband’s help and support carried me through this experience.

One day ten months later, after going to bed at 3 a.m., my husband and I were awakened by a 5 a.m. call to hear my sister say, “Listen to dad’s breathing.” When I heard the sounds, I knew immediately that I needed to grab my food, which I thankfully had prepared the night before for the following day, and go straight to the hospital. My father died a few short hours later.

With abstinent meals in my bag, I could be continuously at his bedside until his last breath. I could support my mother and sister as we escorted my father’s body from the building to the mortuary van saying to say goodbye to my father for the last time. Even though my father and I never had a nourishing relationship, I had dreaded his death. Because of my FA recovery actions, I was and lovingly and completely present for his last years and moments, and could be of real service to him and to my mother.

One of my most inspiring FA moments came in the early morning the day my father died. I left the hospital with my husband at 2 a.m., after attending to my father for six days. On the way home, I was wailing about how I would not go to bed until my food was ready for the next day, no matter how late we actually returned home. Imagine my surprise and gratitude when I entered my building to find, perched at my front doorstep, a grocery bag full of abstinent food. An FA fellow had brought food, simply to be of service because she knew about my situation.

I never thought I would be able go through the death of my father without using an addictive substance or behavior to numb me out.  All it took was to stay abstinent and not eat, no matter what. Thank you God, AWOL fellows, FA fellows, and FA.