Sisters

Posted on | May 31, 2010 | 1 Comment

In the LDS faith, we call one another Sisters and Brothers; a familiar term that denotes family and a bond that is sacred. But I truly did not understand the word until now. Almost immediately after Brent was admitted into the Ranch, he started referring to his fellow addicts under the same roof as his “Brothers.” Since I didn’t start to attend Family Group until nearly a month after he started, I didn’t quite understand this…until I saw them interact with one another.

In our society, men are taught to be tough. And for some inexplicable reason, intimacy with other men is absolutely unacceptable. Intimacy: IN-TO-ME-I-SEE. Being a man in a man’s world means you are never allowed to touch, hug, cry with, or be emotionally vulnerable with another man. Unless you’re gay, and then of course it’s allowed – but then you’re not a REAL man, anyway. It’s ridiculous, this societal definition…”Big boys don’t cry,” is another one of my favorites. Did not God himself weep?! And I don’t know a greater man than he, and he was nothing but intimate with everyone around him…and he is the very definition of masculinity.

And so, it was with incredulous eyes that I beheld one of many miracles in this home. I watched, week after week, as these staunchly manly men would touch one another with a tenderness that brought tears to my eyes. These “Brothers” wrapped their arms around each others broken hearts; they called each other out on their shit, and then they loved them through it. I have seen these men cry openly in one another’s arms, on behalf of a brother, for a brother, and for themselves. They were in a place where love was acceptable, where they were surrounded with men who had suffered like they had, and where they found understanding and unconditional acceptance. Such intimacy is what frees a frozen heart to thaw, to start to feel, to let you become vulnerable enough to face all that you must…and in such an atmosphere, they start to believe that if others think they are worth it then they are worth it. And they are absolutely right. “Brotherhood” in these rooms is the most sacred term, and they latch onto their new family with a vigor and loyalty that is nigh unbreakable. The wives and parents endure the ache of feeling like they’ve been replaced…but it is not so. “Brotherhood” is a home they have needed so badly, and it can heal them, guide them, sustain them, and strengthen them more than anything else can. And as I witnessed these things, and as I poured myself into my own recovery, I also found my own.

Sisterhood. The wives of these men, the mother’s and girlfriends and sisters of these boys became my own family. They were the ones I would call in the middle of the night and cry on their shoulders and hold on to them like they were the only thing keeping me from drifting away into a heartbroken death. Because they understood. And even though each of our stories is a little different, they are the mirror which I see into myself: IN-TO-ME-I-SEE. Intimacy…they each show me what I need to work on, what I have moved past, and stand beside me in an unbreakable line of courage and power and humility that defies my entire human experience thus far. They are my sisters. And as I am honest with them, they are honest with me. Honesty begets honesty, and I have found for the first time that as I have admitted things I have never spoken to another soul, I have been met with one thing, and one thing only: Love.

And I will forever mirror it back to them.

As the years pass, the number of my sisters has grown, but because there is no limit on how much the heart can love, there will never be an ending to the growth of my sister family. I would not be who I am without my comrades-in-arms; they have been my saviors leading me to the Savior, my reminders that I am not alone, my opportunity to serve, my honor to stand in the rooms of their pain with them and be a source of support…and to be a witness of miracles untold. Oh, how I love them. Oh, how I am grateful for each and every one of them. And each time another woman links arms in our ever-expanding chain, I feel their strength and contribution and unique power surge through my own veins. We are a living extension of one beautiful beating heart. And I thank God for it.

Ashleigh. Jen. Katie. Trinadee. Emily. Amber. Gaylene. Elaine. Kari. Michelle. Dena. Amy. Kris. Kim. Karen. Debbie. Jes. And so many more…

I say to you, thank you. Thank you for being my Sisters. It is through your eyes that I have come to know I am beloved of God, and beloved of myself. Thank you for showing me my own heart in the middle of my Gethsemane. It has been an honor and a privilege to walk with you through yours. I love you forever. And to you out there, suffering alone? Come and join us! We open our homes, hearts, and arms out to you. You are loved. You are loved.

You are loved.

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Category: Brent, Rehab, The Deadliest Disease

Comments

One Response to “Sisters”

  1. Trinadee
    June 1st, 2010 @ 9:36 am

    Oh my dear beloved sister thank you for the honesty, love and JOY(Jesus Overcomes You)you bring in to my life…my heart!!! I love you forever!

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