I believe in never giving up.
On a warm June morning my twenty-five year substance abuse history culminated in the front seat of a cop car. It was big that time, not like before. Later as I sat in a holding cell I had a moment to reflect on the wreckage I had created. My three kids were placed into foster care. House, cars, boat, even my clothes were all gone. On top of all that two of the charges I was facing carried a maximum sentence of life. It was in that moment that I realized it wouldn’t be long before the guards came in and took my shoes, thereby removing my opportunity to end my life then and there. Should I?
I look back on that time, one of the darkest in my life, often. I don’t want to forget where I came from compared with how things are today. It seems like something that traumatic would be hard to forget but memories fade and the bustle of life can dim the most vivid memories.
I made a decision that day that I would never give up. I knew that the chances of my ever regaining custody of my children was slim at best, but I owed them at least as much to be the best weekend dad they could ever ask for. That was the best I could hope for. I needed to do the best I could to do what was right by them.
From then on I started on a journey to do just that. Through some inspired insight, or divine inspiration, I knew that the best way to help my kids was to take care of myself. I needed to fix the things that were broken in me. With that being my only focus I sought out programs and avenues to aid this personal journey. Through state issued counseling and programs of the anonymous type I was able to start putting myself back together. I had to take a look at me and who I really was. I had to dig deep and open all those ancient wounds. Little by little it worked. Not by a half-hearted effort, but by really getting in there and getting my hands dirty, even though at times it was painful.
I will spare you the details of how it happened but after only five months passed I was released from jail. The work I had done not only improved who I was as a person but the change in me was obvious. I was in a position to be reunified with my kids. My charges were reduced and I was given the opportunity of probation.
Looking back on that day in June it’s hard for me to put my finger on exactly why I decided to press on in this life. Today I need only look into my children’s smiling faces to know why I believe in never giving up.