Guest Post: A Life and Family Saved


BA Austin

Alcoholism is an insidious disease. It is real. It knows no boundaries. It wreaks havoc wherever it goes. It grabs you when you least expect it. It destroys families . . . it destroys lives. . . .  I should know—I am an alcoholic.

I come from a family where alcoholism has been rampant on both sides for generations. I saw it take the lives of family members I love, people who were taken much too soon in this life. And then one day it grabbed me. And if it was not for the love of my daughter and son, so wise at young ages, it would have eventually taken me.

Here is a letter I wrote them on June 4, 2012:

            Dear Savannah and Steven,

Fifteen years ago this month, at the age of 43, I walked out of the Betty Ford Center, head held high, hopeful about entering “life” a new person, a new mom.  Not a single day has passed since that life-altering experience that I have taken my sobriety for granted, that I have not thanked God for you, that I have not thanked Him for another day.

The years leading up to my demise are indelibly marked in my brain, my soul.  Nana had passed away in 1990.  Your dad and I separated a few months following.  You were nine and six years old at the time, two innocent children now products of a broken family.  Though I was seemingly carrying on raising you in as healthy and loving way I knew, inside I was drifting, sinking lower and lower into despair, bereft over my mom’s death, shameful of now being “a divorced woman”, and worst of all, the sense of failure as your mom. 

As the days and months passed, after you had done your homework and gone to bed, I would reach for a glass of wine to unwind. Over time that one glass became two, three, and ultimately a bottle, or even two.  I did whatever it took to deaden my senses, to put myself into a coma-like sleep. 

As the years passed, though I tried to hide the glasses, the bottles, you became increasingly aware of my drinking, so much so that out of love, not disgust, you went to my brothers to tell them your mom needed help. That afternoon as I entered your Uncle Will’s house thinking I was coming to a bar-b-q, the silence in the walls spoke loudly.  He put his arm around me and brought me into the family room where before me you sat, tears streaming down your faces.  Surrounding you were the rest of the family and a pastor, himself a recovering alcoholic.  You read a letter to me as to how my alcohol problem had impacted you.  I listened intently, heart aching, knowing full well the truth you were speaking. 

That very afternoon I walked through the doors of the Betty Ford Center with trepidation, wondering what laid before me for the next thirty days, looking at desperate faces of other men and women, moms and dads, children, wondering what their story was, wondering how they had reached rock-bottom as I had.  Though I was in a daze, the one single thing I was sure of was I knew I never wanted to have another drink again, that I would do whatever it took to make that happen.  And so my journey began…buried somewhere in my mind was a glimmer of what could be, of hope for a future . . . through adversity would come joy . . . I knew this much. . . .

Through the years I have shared with you how addiction has wreaked havoc on our family from one generation to the next, causing heartache, broken relationships, and often times premature death.  Addiction is an insidious disease. It knows no boundaries.  I pray that this disease in our family has seen its end.

Today you are adults living solid, healthy lives.  Savannah, you are a wonderfully loving wife and mom.  Steven, you are a man with a kind, carefree spirit that I so admire.  I am so very proud of you both.  Without the love you showed me in my darkest hour, I might not be here to write you this letter.  I am so blessed to be your mom.

            I love you so dearly,

Today I am still sober, one day at a time, by the grace of God. I do not take my sobriety for granted; I could relapse at any given time. I am eternally grateful for my children’s unconditional love. I enjoy the love of my grandsons and the gifts and talents God has given me. 

If you are suffering from addiction, you are not alone! And help is out there! All you need to do is simply ask. Sobriety awaits you! Embrace it!

BA Austin is an independent art history lecturer with a Bachelor of Arts degree from Bowdoin College and a Master of Arts degree from the University of Memphis. She completed in-depth studies in Italy on Florentine Renaissance art. Ms. Austin has worked in the museum and academic fields for thirty years. She lives in southern California near her son, daughter, son-in-law, and three grandsons who are the joys of her life.  Visit:

1 comment:

  1. This is a wonderful article and letter to her children which was written by an amazing woman. BA's book, which is entitled Smell The Raindrops is available on Amazon and is a wonderful human interest story. It is an Intimate Memoir of a journey which tells her story of a life of privilege, heartbreak, addiction, recovery, inspiration, strength, and courage. All of you will really enjoy this book.



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