If I Could Reach the Stars…Or, Keep on Dreaming Even If It Breaks Your Heart…


If I could reach the stars…I’d pull one down for you…and shine it in your heart…so you could see the Truth…

This morning’s meditation whispered that I am hard-headed and soft-hearted, to the point of my own detriment…I guess it’s better than being hard-hearted and soft in the head…although I do think that is often how others see me.

That is certainly how my family thinks of me. My big, violent, addicted family…I recently saw a bumper sticker – on a pickup truck of course- that said I “heart” (it showed a big red heart) my violent alcoholic family…I need ME one of them!

Those of you who know me or follow this blog know that I have been housing my elderly father for seven years now, since he came home from the hospital with Hospice and three weeks to live. Then my brother moved in after his home was foreclosed upon. They were heart broken and world weary…and haven’t we all been there?

But I attempted to heal them- again- as I had in previous years…along with the other four members of my biological family…and my husband…and child…and stepchildren and countless close friends. They’re dropping out of my life like flies around here lately, and my healthier friends assure me this is progress. It is true that I seem to have lost my codependence recently. Perhaps the healing HAS begun. (See Post of May 27th, 2013)

But the truth is that I am broken-hearted for them. They just cannot overcome their addictions and self destructive behaviors. They can’t seem to help themselves, and their lives become increasingly difficult. I can’t live with them any longer; I have let it go on too long as it is…but if I could find the words or any meaningful action that would effect them, I certainly would…

I see their innocence, their inherent beauty; the lost potential of people born privileged by strong bodies and brilliant minds. Only I know the abuses and cancers they have already endured and overcome. I respectfully hold the secrets they cannot voice in hopes they will one day find themselves worthy of telling their own stories. Meanwhile, they still gamble and fall off the wagon and pick violent fights and kick and thrash against life, and stubbornly live on the edge of destruction. I just can’t have it in my life or my home any longer.

So they are moving out come August 1st, and while I will not revisit this decision, I am sick with guilt and sorrow. I will continue to pray for us constantly, for restoration of our health and to our right minds, and I will keep on dreaming for them even if it breaks my heart…

Hearts are resplendently resilient…what would you dare to dream even if it broke your heart?!


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