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Last night was a rough night.

A harsh reminder of the darkest times, and a reality I've been desperately trying to cover with wedding plans and big dreams.

It's going to be a big year. I'm getting married, I'm getting a house, I have a loving fiance, an amazing job(s) and a new dog and everything I could ever ask for. Even a new iPhone.

By any standards I count myself lucky. Unreasonably and maybe even unfairly so. All of my dreams are coming true.

Except one.


Eight years ago, which seems almost like an eternity ago, my dad left his wife and his family.

It was the evening of my band senior night, and our annual Halloween party.

To make a very long story short, we ended up losing everything.

We lost our house, we had to sell our stuff, and most of all we lost my mother.


For those who haven't met my mother, if you asked any of my friends they would tell you what an incredible person she was.

She was kind, smart, and absolutely hilarious.

She had this wit and sarcasm that would put the whole room in stitches and a persona that immediately made people feel comfortable.

My mother was everyone's mom. She took in lost children like cats and dogs off the side of a road. Everyone called her "mom" and she's known for feeding armies with her incredible cooking (that I can never seem to replicate, despite my best efforts to follow her instructions EXACTLY) and inserting magic into every day.

I could go on for pages about how she would make reindeer hoof prints in the frozen ground to make us believe, or how she taught us how to open band aids in the dark so we could see them spark, or how she stayed up late into the night to cook dozens of cookies that we totally forgot that we needed for class the next day...

I could go on forever about the amazing person she was.

But the fact of the matter is that she isn't that person anymore.


After my dad left, my mother found herself alone after 16 years of marriage.

She found herself incapable of taking care of her children, without a home and without any hope.

It wasn't long before she became paralyzed by depression which eventually spiraled into alcoholism.


The first time I got a call about her being admitted to Peninsula, I had no idea what to do.

I didn't know what bills I needed to pay or how to pay them and how to feed me or my brother, after all I was a highschool senior...what was I suppose to do?


It was the beginning of a very long, treacherous road for my entire family.


Since then it's been eight years of long drive to rehab centers in other states. Eight years of nights in hospitals fighting with doctors, fighting with her, fighting with everyone.

Eight years of screaming and crying and losing hope as we watched my mother disappear into an addiction that seemed insurmountable.


There has been so much hope, in that time.

Rehabs that really did seem to work and we'd go weeks or months with her starting all over.

But with a relapse rate of 50-90%, it wasn't surprising when it all disappeared again.


Recently we finally found an incredible program locally that was finally, FINALLY working.

She had made so much progress, made so much improvement and it appeared as though everything was truly coming out of the woods.


But those programs are expensive, and not meant for those without good insurance and a savings plan or an income. And within a few months we were forced to abandon it and resort to the other programs available.



Last night was a really bad relapse.

I guess I knew it was coming, since it has been just a few weeks since she's been out of the program.

But it never stops hurting every time it happens.



If you've been through this disease, if you've experienced anything similar you understand how helpless you feel when you watch your loved one slowly waste away with no way to save them.



And I guess I've put this all out here on this wedding blog, because I honestly am not sure if my mom will make it to my wedding day.

I can't fully describe here, in this blank space, what a terrifying thought that is.

I can't tell you how much I dread waking up to find that I'll have to keep planning the biggest day of my life knowing that she likely will not be there to see it.




I suppose I'm writing this for your support, or your prayers, or whatever it is you might have to help me get through days like today.

Because I know I'm lucky. I know it.


But sometimes having everything doesn't seem like quite enough.