The Call I Never Wanted to Make

I would say good bye to my dad as we walked out of that freezing, abandoned trailer with that frail, old man inside. It’s hard to believe a heart can continue to break once it’s already been through so much hurt and pain but, here I was again, drained of energy and filled with fear, anger, sadness and resentment.

As I had so many times before, I would pull myself together, gather up my strength and go on about my life knowing I had done my best. I had listened to my heart and did what I could to help.

Just a few days later, I received a call from the hospital (this was not the first); my father was in with a broken knee. He had fallen and someone had found him lying in the road and got him help. They did what they could in the ER and sent him on his way on crutches.

He began calling my phone to ask for a ride. This was like a record on repeat, he would call, leave a message, I would ignore the call and wait to hear the message. This was the dance I had done with him for years. I reminded myself he was resourceful, he would find a ride and a place to go as he always managed to do.

A few days had passed when I was enjoying a beautiful, fall weekend in Denver with my now husband, when I would get a call from my son. He and my brother had spotted my dad sitting on my front porch with crutches in tow. No telling how far he had come, but he found his way to my home. The boys wanted nothing to do with the situation so they kept driving and called me.

The next steps would be some of the hardest I had taken to date. I was out of town and there was a homeless man on my front porch. I called a friend with the police department and asked for his advice. Moments later, I would be on the phone with dispatch asking for law enforcement to remove this individual from the property.

When police arrived at my home, they kindly asked him to leave and he began walking down the street. My heart sank as I sat in my car a hundred miles away and pictured the whole thing in my mind. I was in such disbelief that I had been put in a position where I had to call the police on my own dad and have him escorted away from my home. I could hear the sarcastic cheers in the back of my mind, "Yay! Daughter of the year!" I was so angry at him for putting me in that position and I couldn't help but question if I had done the right thing. Was I heartless?

Here’s the part you may not understand. If you have not dealt with an addict before, you likely don’t understand the risks that come with what happens if I allowed him in.

#1 He WOULD find alcohol and drink

#2 He had health and physical issues that would require full-time attention

#3 He was on crutches and my home is full of stairs

#4 He had little to no control over his bodily functions

#5 He would likely steal money or anything of value he could sell or swap for a drink

#6 The man who once was meticulously dressed, starched jeans, nice shirts, cologne, now lacked basic hygiene

#7 Given his transient lifestyle we had no idea if he might carry disease, he had marks on his body that we could not determine the nature.

#8 I was a single mom and had my son living in the home.

All these factors meant that there was no place for him in my home.

Did I continue to question myself? Yes. Did I wonder if I did the right thing? Yes. Did my heart want to help him? Yes. Did years of dealing with an alcoholic parent reassure me that this was my only option? Yes.

It was after this, that I would finally break down and go to my first Al-Anon meeting…

#alcoholic, #homeless, #al-anon, #alcoholism, #addiction #supportforfamiliesofalcoholics