During the years of my daughters addiction sometimes she would go missing for months at a time. When I ate, I wondered if she had enough food. When I pulled the covers up at night, I wondered if she had a blanket… It cracked my heart wide open and it was during that time I unearthed a depth of compassion that I never knew I was capable of. There were a series of events that followed but the first was in NYC. I was approached at the train station by a young man around my daughters age, who looked like he’d been pulled under a few times in the current of life. He was bruised and cut and as the distance between us shortened rather than turning away in fear my energy expanded and when we met eyes the words just flowed, “How can I help?” He was someone’s child , yet, in that moment he was my child.
On my train ride back, I wondered if that stone of kindness would send ripples circling into the mighty river of children lost to addiction. I wondered if someone would cover my sweet daughter with a blanket or just turn away.