To whom it may concern,

This is a follow-up article to the story that I wrote when my brother was an active drug addict. It documents the joy and relief my family and I found in his recovery. Please note that you may notice a name change in this story. My brother is very open about his recovery and asked that I include his real name. Thank you and happy reading!

A beautiful new beginning

I find it ironic that when a storm gets to its worst, a small ray of sunlight suddenly emerges from the sky. Fierce droplets of rain plummet down faster than an asteroid leaving the earth’s atmosphere, causing everyone to seek shelter indoors. Just as the sky seems like it is going to succumb to a world of darkness, the rain dwindles and beautiful, vibrant colors take form. A new beginning warms the heart of even the most skeptical person. Ironically, this same pattern holds true according to my life. My brother’s drug addiction had taken over his life, but just as all seemed lost, a new hope arose.

The day will forever be imprinted in my brain. It was Thanksgiving of 2014. The brittle breeze perfectly complemented the colorful leaves that were starting to lose their beauty. My brother was at his worst. He was no longer living with us and surrendered to a life of stealing from family to pay for crappy motels. I was used to it though. For me, that was my version of normal, which is heartbreaking looking back at it. However, that is not what broke me that day. My most trusted family member spearheaded an intervention and did not even bother to include me. There were so many things that I could have said, but she took away my right to do so. She impaled a blade through my core. I know that she was trying to protect me, but she did not achieve her goal. After that, I did not see how things could possibly get worse, but luckily, it never came to that.

A peak of sunshine emerges

I have once said that there are only three outcomes of addiction: jail, rehabilitation, and death. I always believed that my brother’s fate was set in stone- that one day his addiction would claim his life. Two years ago, I thought that I would be attending his funeral, not his two-year sober anniversary. That day will hold a special place in my heart, and I will always remember it with a smile on my face.

The crisp fall air entered my nostrils as I slammed my blue sedan’s door. I quickened my pace as dreary grey clouds were starting to form in the sky. Not before long, the first splatter of raindrops slammed onto my forehead when I was half way up the driveway. Goosebumps began to seep up my body, causing it to shake rapidly as if it were a beating heart. I once would have said that this rain was there to calm my darkest hours, but that night, it just felt different.

A beat-up church entered my line of vision. It was of ancient Gothic architecture with chipping white paint. It was a wonder that everything was still intact. I walked down the red fabric steps that howled like a wounded dog. There were five rows of ten folding chairs at each side of the dim basement, filled with people. There was a white folding table in the front of the room where a Caucasian man was sitting—he led the meeting. Ironically, the church had more life than the people in the building. They all looked the same. They were on the brink of death, with their veins popping out and yellow teeth that accompanied a rocky body that shook more than an earthquake. And yet, I could not take my eyes off him.

Compared to his peers, Andy was like a Greek God. Golden lights radiated from his body, oozing confidence, as if he were the son of Zeus. His toned, muscular figure joined an even more captivating personality that I have never known before. Dimples began to emerge on his face as the meeting began.

“Welcome to the Liberty from Sorrow meeting of Heroin Anonymous. My name is Rick and I am a heroin addict,” the man at the center table said.

Everyone responded in unison, “Hi, Rick.”

“Before we begin, please silence all cell phones. Please help me open this meeting with a moment of silent meditation followed by the Serenity Prayer.”

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference,” Everyone said in perfect harmony.

Rick said, “Heroin Anonymous is a fellowship of men and women who share their experience, strength and hope with each other that they may solve their common problem and help others to recover from heroin addiction. The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop suffering from heroin addiction. There are no dues or fees for membership; we are self-supporting through our own contributions. H.A. is not allied with any sect, denomination, politics, organization or institution; does not wish to engage in any controversy; neither endorses nor opposes any causes. Our primary purpose is to stay sober and help other heroin addicts to achieve sobriety. This is an open meeting of Heroin Anonymous. Everyone is welcome. In keeping with our primary purpose, we ask that all who participate confine their discussion to their problems with heroin. Is there anyone here that has less than 30 days of sobriety?”

A few hands quickly rose, including the guy sitting next to me. Rick met his reluctant glance and smiled. He continued, “Will you please let us know who you are so we may become better acquainted after the meeting?”

“Are there any secretary announcements?”

“Hi, everyone. My name is Jay and I am a heroin addict,” Someone said from behind me.

“Hi, Jay.”

“Just a couple of announcements today. Please vape and smoke outside, we are guests here and need to respect this building. And remember to put your cigarettes butts in the red bowl. If you don’t, I have to and that freaking pisses me off. Since it is also the last of the month, it is an anniversary meeting. We have three celebrants today celebrating two years: Andrew, Trevor, and Thomas. And that’s all on the agenda for today.”

“Thank you.” Everyone said.

“As Jay pointed out, this is an anniversary meeting, so I’d like to invite our first celebrant, Andrew, up to speak.”

The golden boy

Andy emerged from a crowd of people from the corner of the room as a big applause roared with excitement. He states, “What’s up, everyone? My name is Andy and I’m a heroin addict.”

“Hi, Andy.”

“This isn’t really about me. This is about the new people that are sitting in this room today,” He said as he leaned across the table, “Trust me, the steps really do work. I am living proof of that. I have to say that it feels a little strange standing up here. Two years ago, I didn’t have anything but the clothes on my back. I was alone and high, which is a deadly combination. My family didn’t want anything to do with me, and I don’t blame them- I was terrible. I remember that there was a time that I didn’t understand the true meaning of happiness. I would see people laughing at the park and I would just think that they would have to be high. Drugs were my higher power. I didn’t get how people could be at ease without them, but I finally get it now. These steps are my higher power and they have given me my life back, and most importantly, my family back. That has made all the difference. I would like to invite my mother up to give me my coin.”

She rose from her seat and stood parallel to Andy at the front of her room. She was nervous, but looked at him effortlessly.

“Andy, asking you to leave our home was one of the hardest thing I have ever had to do. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing for the next fourteen months was very painful and extremely stressful. I can't express in just words the joy and relief I felt when you went to Seafield and completed your program. Now two years later I feel I have my son back. I can't express my gratitude for these rooms. They gave me you back again. I am forever grateful.”

A thunderous applause erupted as my mother met Andy’s eager glance and joined his warm embrace. It was in that moment that I realized that I finally had everything I always dreamed of. Andy does not know this, but that was one of the proudest moments of my life. For someone to overcome such a trying illness is truly remarkable.

A beautiful family reunited

We all gathered in a tight circle, resting our hands around each other’s shoulder. We recited once more, “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.” My family and I quickly congratulated Andy again, but his friends eagerly stole him away. We did not mind though, it felt like he was exactly where he belonged.

“We’ll see you at home, Andy.” My father said before he walked out the front door, with the rest of us not too far behind.

A beautiful gift of colors emerged in the clear sky, guiding us up the driveway. The colors began to overlap, creating a captivating mixture, like a kaleidoscope. I imagined him against the radiant sun, warming up my heart after a difficult storm.