Sunday Weariness

It's Sunday again.  I should be thinking about what awaits me at work and how I can be most effective.  I should have gone to the gym with my husband.  Instead, I sit here and I am consumed by fear.  I'm afraid that this week will be a defining moment in my son's drug addiction and today I am lacking any hope.  This past week has been hell with each day bringing me new levels of heartbreak and anxiety.  Everyday during the past week the news about my son Brent became more bizarre as the days went on.   It started with reports that he had overdosed and died.  You can imagine what impact that had on me. Most of the time I get "Brent news" while I am at work in between meetings.  Through a network of Brent's non-addict friends I was able to confirm he had not died thankfully.  When I was able to track him down I had the misfortune of listening to my son go through horrific withdrawal symptoms on the phone. You see, he could not hear me but where I could hear him.  I could not hang up as horrifying as it was to hear his pain and agony, I kept thinking what if this is the last time I hear his voice? I kept telling him I loved him and begged him to ask for help.  I am bracing myself for what "Brent news" will be brought to me this week.  I wish and I hope, I know I have a tremendous amount of love for my son.  Sometimes it helps me to look at pictures of happier times with him.  Here is one I ran across of him and his beautiful daughter Ryann.   She's five now and I wonder where the time has gone and how do I get my funny, loving beautiful son back?!