An Average Day Part I

I took a shower today. To most people this is a normal daily activity that is not even given much thought to. To me it is a chore, something I can not be bothered to do, do not have the motivation for. I go for a very long time without a shower (I will not say just how long because there may be people that I know and come into contact with who read this and that is just too much information that I am not comfortable sharing with them.)  I do I feel slightly better after a shower but also feel it was such an effort. I also feel worse because I am ashamed of my myself. One of my promises to myself is that I will shower more often, how depressing is that? That I need to try to promise myself to be motivated enough to have regular showers and I can not even manage that? Well, yes that is exactly what it is, depressing because that is what I am, depressed.

I can not remember when this reduction in showering started but it is not a recent problem. I can not recall if it started as a result of many practical issues, or was it just my low mood and lack of motivation. Which came first is hard to say but I suppose both reasons help to feed the problem.

The practical reasons for not showering  is because of our financial difficulties. We do not have the type of boiler that only heats the water when you use it, it either has to be on constantly or on a timer. Well I can not afford to have the water heating on timed when no one is using it. No one can use the hot water in the kitchen or the bathroom sinks because the taps are broken. So when my daughters need a shower, they turn the hot water heater on for 20 to 30 minutes before they shower. I often justify my lack of washing as saving money as I do not need it, I do not go to school daily as they do, I do not go to work either. Sometimes I justify not showering because there is no hot water when I "feel" like having a shower, or that when I think of having a shower it is often late in the evening and I do not want to wait a half an hour to have hot water. However, if I had a constant source of hot water, would I shower more often? I think that I would not because I honestly can not find the motivation.

This lack of motivation applies for much more in my life other than showering: changing clothes regularly, doing regular household chores regularly, going out regularly, talking to people regularly, doing just about any "normal" "regular" activities that emotionally healthier people take for granted or do not think about and they just "do".  If these normal everyday activities are a rare achievement for me you can imagine how difficult bigger things are for me to cope with: dealing with my debt, dealing with all the home improvements that need doing, dealing with my children and all their constant wants and needs, dealing with my son's addiction and social isolation, depression and anxieties. Dealing with all the many many things that a normal life has to deal with as well as all the many issues that a very unhealthy, dysfunctional and demanding life has to deal with has all become much too heavy for my shoulders to bare all alone.

Was I depressed before all the problems started? No not to this level. I was unhappy many times in my life but never as apathetic as I feel now., because depression and being unhappy are not one in the same. I was happy with my children when they were young and was always active with them (well mostly my son, and also with my daughter but less so with my youngest). I taught my children, again mostly my son, to enjoy life when they were little, to see the beauty life has everywhere, to laugh and be silly, to be good and kind, to always smile despite how hard life can be and ironically it has had very little long term affects in their lives, again, especially for my son.

Someone I know often tells me that I must stop being so depressed and apathetic for my children sake. Nothing could annoy me more. It annoys me for two reasons. Firstly, if it was so easy to stop being depressed and to start being more energetic and proactive simply because you are a parent, then the world would reduce mental health issues by more than half! It is as ridiculous as telling a parent to tell their children to stop taking drugs or any other dangerous activity. Or indeed, it is as unbelievable as telling a drug addict or alcoholic to just stop using! Yeah, ok, I have kids, I better not be depressed anymore, I better start looking after myself and my family and I better make everything wonderful! If only life were so simplistic.

Secondly, it annoys me because I have done that so many times in my life and it seems that life just keeps getting worse. I have fought and worked so hard in so many differing situations for my children to help them or to attempt to make our lives better and actually each and every year our lives get worse and worse. Through it all I always managed to put a smile on my face, make my children laugh and point out some of life's beauty. Unfortunately it did not have any lasting positive affects on my children.

I've always tried everything I could for my kids. The biggest thing I thought I could do for them was to get out of my unhealthy marriage which was also affecting the children because my ex was also a very unfit parent who caused our children a great deal of emotional pain. That is when I thought I was was taking a big step and I would make life better for  my children; however it did not happen. Shortly after that my son was taking drugs and eventually excluded from school for drugs. I made it my full time job to learn all the education guidance for exclusions and contacted many organisations, attending numerous appeals etc until we "won" the fight and my son was reinstated. However the results when he was reinstated in school were more negative than positive. I again fought my son's corner to get him enrolled in 6 Form and helped with course work and supported him and attended meetings when it was evident to the school that he was struggling. I once again made phone calls and fought and explained and helped, but in the end despite all the support he quit 6 Form as his drug addiction was making it too difficult for him to function. There are so many other examples that come to mind in which I spent my time trying to get help and support and did all I could do to try to make my family better for my children. All the times I did not "allow" myself to be so "selfish" to be depressed. I even made my vulnerable son move and essentially made him homeless to ensure the best home environment for my daughters and possibly to somehow facilitate my son seeking a new clean life. That did not happen and since then my daughter has had many mental health issues, has self harmed, attempted suicide and is not closer to me or her sister, refuses to see or speak to her brother and is often emotionally distant. I sought help through services for her, attended meetings, groups, made phone call  further just as I did for my son.  However,  we seem to have many more issues and the previous years seem less distressing as they are now.

I began this entry with I had a shower. A simply activity that illustrates how anything other than normal my life is and how complex the issues behind my depression is, One of the most frustrating elements is the fact that people simply do not understand and misinterpret my behaviour as antisocial or indifferent. I still care about people, I still like people, I just feel more comfortable alone and it creates to much anxiety, sadness and depression to be around people at the moment. People do not understand and expect you to change everything on your own or not to take the problems so seriously that it affects your life so much. Or they thing that having children does not give you the right to feel this way because you need to do better for the,  Some people take it so personally they do not contact you any more. Some get annoyed and express it by telling you off, "Why didn't you tell me it was so bad? You didn't tell me any of this", well no, because I can't but when I say I am in an unhappy place and do not want to be around people that was my way of telling you. My son has many of the same issues so my next post will be a PART II and continue with how there are so many similarities. I was going to here, but I think it is best to write them as two separate posts.

Life is hard for most and everyone goes through ups and downs. For others life is more than hard, but a struggle and there are very few and infrequent ups to balance out the downs, making life one big downward struggle ending in death eventually with very little success or happiness to show for the life we were given. How to change that is beyond me and it has been an exhausting exercise to wait and try and hope for better days, so I go to sleep.

.

Living in Fear

I had a moment this morning in which I though, "It is as if I am just waiting for my son to die". Terrible, isn't it? It is not a thing I want, it is not as if I am waiting for it eagerly. Obviously not. I am leaving in fear and that fear always makes me fear that, "maybe now is the time I will have my nightmares become reality". The fear paralysis me. If I am not doing something to spend time with my son, or feel like I am doing something to help him, I am petrified and immobilized!

                    

Yesterday I took my son to the bank and to Taco Bell. He was obviously high. I asked him on what, on heroin. It apparently is not a nice high he likes and he was slurred and sedated but still anxious and feeling "bad". I know that people can sense that there is something not quite right when they look at my son or he speaks to them. I am ashamed yet not ashamed at the same time. I enjoy his company, yet I am frustrated because it is not the company I most enjoy. I enjoy being with him, knowing he is safe and alive; however, I secretly wish that I was spending time in his "real" unaltered" company.

Last night I had numerous emails from my son. The police still has his phone so we can only communicate via email. The last email was at 4:45 a.m. confirming our plans for today. I was picking him up at 10:00 am, we were going out to breakfast and the going to One Support to discuss housing. http://www.onehousinggroup.co.uk/sites/default/files/Essex%20Floating%20Support%20service.pdf

I emailed him this morning saying that I will leave at 10:00 am but if he could please e-mail me when he woke, so I know he is awake and ready! So I waited til 10:20 am and then left home. When I arrived I buzzed from outside the building because it is a secured building and you need to buzz the tenants or office to open the door. I buzzed repeatedly about 30 times. I know what the buzzer sounds like since I have heard it before. It is loud and prolonged. I was getting increasingly anxious that he was not responding to these loud and persistent noises! I buzzed the office. They went to check on him. Well the staff member was upstairs for about 10 minutes. I was getting more and more scared. Imagining the staff giving him mouth to mouth and trying to resuscitate a limp and lifeless body. The body of my son. Why was he taking so long? Is he calling the police and paramedics? What was going on? I was feeling weak in the legs and the tears were welling up. The man came back down and he said that there is no one there! I said that is impossible. Did he go inside the flat? No he only knocked! I explained that my son was expecting me and he emailed me in the early hours of the morning and he would not have gone out and that he needs to go inside and check on him. He said he will go to the office and check the fob key records and see if he has left the building! I was left outside in the cold, as the cold inside me grew. I was crying by this point, the tears flowed freely, I felt my neck getting wet from their flow. Finally the man returned and said that he will go upstairs and go inside the flat! I continued to wait outside, fearing and imaging the worse. Finally, after what he seemed like an eternity he returned, smiling that he is ok, he is out cold, snoring in his bed, but out cold! I was relieved. He saw how shook up I was and I told him that I often fear that one day I wont have him in my life anymore. He offered me a cup of coffee and I sat in the office and chatted and when I was no longer shaky I left. He assured me that he would go up and see my son later and also tell him I was here.

                                      

As soon as I arrived home at 11:30 I emailed my son and explained what happened, in short omitting all my fears. I asked him to email me when he wakes up. It is now 2:30 pm and still no email. I have been sitting on my sofa with my laptop, looking at my emails vigilantly. I have had the TV on to create a feeling of life around me. I have mountains of chores to do but my fears continues to paralyze me. I should not allow this to happen because I still have my two daughters at home to care for...yet it seems impossible while my son is on the brink of oblivion.

                                            

Broken

Once again my son is struggling with the chaos of the system. Nearly three weeks ago he suffered another psychosis; i.e. a combination of hallucinations and delusional thinking which alters perception, thinking, emotion and behaviour. This again was proceeded by a seizure, but not all of his seizures resulted in a psychotic episode. The seizures themselves have never been investigated or explained and the psychotic episodes of the past have been "explained" as delirium tremens (vary unlikely given the total break with reality he had at that time and the relatively short period of time he was drinking heavily) to possible kidney infection and even epilepsy! These were all possibilities based on nothing other than the attending doctor's theory at the time. Of course whenever any of the seizures or psychotic breaks resulted in hospitalization, once my son gained clarity of thought and discussed his background with any of the nurses or doctors assessing him, the answer to "have you been using or have you used in the past any drugs" stopped any need for more assessments. The word "drugs" and in fact even "alcohol" can stop the medical and mental health professionals in their tracks, because their minds have then been made up that the sole case for every symptom is due to present or previous drug usage.

                                                                                                                                                                                      

On this occasion, as with many of the others, I was the first to notice my son was not quite right and it was the early signs of an episode. Luckily I had no problems getting him into my car to go to the hospital. However, there were a few issues getting him ready; e.g. he thought the salt container was his keys, a piece of paper was his shoe and he was struggling to get it on his foot and so on. During the car journey there I am surprised I could retain my composure and continue to drive as my son tried to stand up from the passenger seat and tried to "walk out" through the back seat.

Those 9 hours of waiting with him in the hospital emergency room, until he was placed on the ward of the mental health unit were very difficult for me. To sit with a loved one, your first born child, watching him have imaginary conversations and trying to fill up an asthma vaporiser with water and at times not knowing where he was, is a heartbreaking and emotionally exhausting experience. The emotional strain is even greater when you are faced with such an ordeal on your own and you are also aware that you have left your other children at home alone for hours on end with no way of knowing when you will be home.  Being alone with only a handful of local friends is difficult and I do not always find it easy to reach out to people for support because the friendships may not be long standing ones or indeed you may want a certain type of comfort or support only certain types of friendships can give. I luckily had two people to txt who lived close by to get some food to my daughters as we had nothing home and no money in the house.  For my own moral support, I took a leap of faith and reached out because I really needed to be comforted, unfortunately I got none. I understand that people are busy and have their plans in progress on a Saturday evening, but the situation with my son would clearly not be a matter of a day, but a lengthy ordeal and I am still very much alone. To make matters worse when I did finally get home, I had to face "normality" and the mess left for mom to clean up and not really being able to talk to my daughters about what happened. Firstly because my youngest is too young and secondly my other daughter still harbours so much resentment towards her brother she can not put that aside for a moment to offer her mother a bit of comfort. So I go home and felt very much alone with no one offering me a hug, a drink or something to eat. How utterly selfish of me I guess, yet, I would offer my help to anyone I loved regardless of my own feelings. Why is this so emotional for me, that it causes tears to flow as I write? It is not as if my life has been any different than now for the past 20 years. It is not as if I have ever been loved deeply by anyone other than those who are blood related to me. It is not as if my life has ever been easy. So why am I so sad, why is it not just the status quo and I can manage to deal with things without the unnecessary complication of sadness and loneliness? I must be damaged or just not meant for this world, this society, this life.
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
               

I digress, sorry! So the relatively good news is that my son had no drugs or alcohol in his system upon getting to the hospital and all drug tests came back negative. So that has helped things being looked at a bit more seriously, as to just how seriously, that remains to be seen. We are nearly three weeks into his hospitalization and as yet the weekly reviews with the psychiatrist focuses mainly on medication, but also how my son is feeling. Luckily, because my son has developed such a high tolerance for many substances, the medication doses are not enough to sedate him as perhaps other patients seem to be. Also even though he was fortunate enough not to have any drugs or alcohol in his system, he was still using both as and when he could. If he would not have been in the hospital these past 19 days, there is no way he could have stayed away from alcohol, substances or over doing his prescribed medication for this long because he would have believed he needed it or he would get a seizure! Maybe the longer he stays in there he may just start believing that, in fact, he does't NEED to use or over medicate! However, that is not to say my son is not an addict and he will still need to face his addictive tendencies and find healthier ways to cope with his emotions and stressors. I take my son out of the unit about 4-5 times a week and unfortunately now that he is quite lucid, he often wants and does get a drink while he is out, because the belief is still there that that one beer will somehow help him. I will let him have one small or average bottle of beer, but on a particularly upsetting afternoon when he tried to buy a 750 ml bottle of 6.6% Leffe beer, (mind you we were only going to out of the hospital for an hour) I had to put my foot down and start giving him ultimatums. It worked and he put it back, however his mood towards me was not "good".

                                                      


Unfortunately, my son in this short time of hospitalization has been rejected, once again, by his father, witnessed the resuscitation of another patient when discovered after attempting to hang himself, the confirmation that his only friend and relative is me, as well as being told that in light of this hospitalization he will be indeed evicted from his supported housing scheme because they can not offer him the level of support he needs. Well done! Good support strategies! Though I was at first relieved that he is at least "safe" while on the unit, now I see that they are not really that safe at all from harming themselves. And while I thought that a hospital stay on a mental health unit without any drugs and alcohol in his system would help his housing situation, in fact it has damaged it and now we have the fear of homelessness one again! This kid never seems to get a break! Life does not seem to improve for any of us, and I feel ultimately responsible. A woman who can not support children financially, a woman who has failed in her own life to successfully create a loving and supportive family, a woman who is clearly unwanted, a woman who has children who are addicts and self harmers is one fucked up person and clearly had no right to bring three children into her lonely and messed up life. The world is not lacking in dysfunctional human beings, and it seems that I have added to the global force of messed up individuals.

                                             
                                                                                                                                                                                       

Reality Check: Done!

Today I am feeling: realistic, positive, accepting, comfortably numb. I have had a week to regroup after being back from our trip to Budapest. I have digested the reality that is my life that I have come back to. I have started to regain some positivity that I will and can change some of my life and I will continue to think how the hell I am actually going to do that! I had put off seeing my son but finally saw him and though I can not say that I see too much progress, I am starting to regain my confidence that he will be OK, one day he will be living a much better life and he will have some of the "things" in life that he wants and also the "things" that I want for him.

                                                  
                                     
I feel accepting that though there is a lot about the relationships in my life with family and friends that are letting me down and discouraging to my soul, I also accept that is how it is at the moment, and though it has seemed to have been a recurring issue in my life, one day that too will change. My family will recovery and I will have a healthier family. I will one day find someone, and that someone will find me, that I can love freely and more important that person will also love me and be confidant enough in their feelings to love me freely and opening without games/complications/fears.

Though life is difficult and no where near how I would like it to be, I am positive that it will not be this way forever. I am too good of a person to have to suffer my entire existence, my heaven is not waiting for me after death, it is waiting for me here in this mortal world...and damn it, I will find it!

My children may all have their various issues and struggles of their own to achieve happiness, and they may indeed take out all their frustrations on me...but you know what? Thank God, that they have me to unload on! Thank God, they know that there is someone here that loves them profoundly and will allow them to vent! Imagine if they did not have that?

               

I may have fallen into a relationship years ago devoid of true love. I may have stayed in that bad relationship too long and helped create dysfunctional relationships and a dysfunctional family, but it is done now. I may have opted to be a full time mother loving and caring for my children and now find the need to be financial independent extremely difficult, oh well, at least my children and I have incredibly strong bonds! OK, so my eldest son is hurting and has turned to drugs to find comfort in the void that is there in his life because of the dysfunctional relationship with his father, but that can not be changed either, but he can learn from it. Yes, my middle child also suffered from the dysfunctions she witnessed and was a part of, turning to self harming and contemplating suicide, but she STOPPED cutting herself from her own desire to do so, her strong will helped her through that difficult period. My youngest may have grown up in a household devoid of "normal" family life, without a father, with a mother full of worry, with a big brother who was abusing drugs quite opening in the family home, with an older sister who was angry and reclusive....this has had it's impact, that I am sure off in which creates confusion within her. However, she also has seen that her mother loves ALL her children, despite everything and she is strong enough not to stop believing in them and though sometimes depressed and negative, she has seen her mommy always loving and never really giving up!

                                               

Life may not be great, my son is still an addict, my daughter is still unhappy, I am struggling, I am still battling; however, it will not be like this forever and I will try to overcome what I can. I may not be a bundle of positive energy yet, thankfully I am not a bundle of negative energy either! This week has been emotional, but I am moving on! My family will as well and one day we will connect with the positive and loving and giving people in the world who we can build some happy memories with and say good bye to the bad memories!

Life goes on and I am not going to let it beat me!

                                     

Educating The Young Homeless Addict

I met with my son in town for a cup of coffee today. He was 45 minutes late, but at least he was not intoxicated!

                            

My fear was always that if my son was ever homeless he would be exposed to more undesirable "things". I really never looked beyond the fear that he would turn to heroin and may accidentally overdose.

Funny, I did not think about the other "things" he would be exposed to. I suppose I feared the threat of heroin and possible overdose because I assumed my son would be scared and hurt and turn to heroin as a comforting  way to deal with his fear. I did not think that my son would just fine being homeless. He would like the people he was coming into contact with. He would listen to their tricks and think it is worth a go.
Oh how naive of me!

                                      
It is a provable statistic that crime and drug addiction has a high correlation, therefore why am I surprised that my son would turn to petty crime to support his habit? He has already broke the law in so many more complex ways. As I sat with him and he spoke of things, I was embarrassed that we may be overheard, I had a feeling of detachment as well as shame.

Under the pretense of wanting to see me and just sit and have a chat, it became clear there was more to it. He has no money. Will I give him enough money to tie him over till he gets his next benefit payment. "No, I am sorry I can't, you will have to ask someone else." "Dad has just given me £50 for Christmas and wont give me any more, and my friends won't give me money."

        

I will not give him any more. I helped him out with nearly £100 the first few days after moving out. His most loyal friend will not give him money because he has also learned that he would only be enabling him. His father has not helped for months and our son knows that  Dad is not a resource for him to tap into. My son receives benefits now, paid into his bank account each fortnight. I will help him budget that money, as I offered, but I will no longer do anything that is in any way enabling his addiction.

So ok then, he will have to start stealing "bigger stuff". Ahem, excuse me, "bigger stuff"? Well he has stolen a thermal head scarf, some ear phone cushions, AND, and I did not want to know any more. He told me of how one of the guys at the shelter told him how he steals wine, even though he doesn't like wine, it is the easiest to steal. He also found out that some chemists do not dispose of medicines properly and sometimes if you poke around their bins you can find some pills. Also around the University campus is also a good place to find blister packs of prescription drugs laying about. A homeless woman also steals from donations that are left outside Oxford and other charity shops. STOP. I do not want to hear any more.

I am listening to this is a small cafe with no other customers and the owner is sitting at the table right behind my son, he is not even trying to speak quietly. He talks about how the codeine syrup he bought yesterday broke when he dropped it. Then he says, that though upset, he was ok because he knew he had the codeine he extracted from some co-codamol he bought and that was back at the room. Upon returning he picked it up and spilled 2/3rds of it. Also his prescription for Atarax (hydroxyzine hydrochloride) is almost gone even though he had a new prescription filled on Jan 31st, 4 days ago. If the doctor intended him to be taking as many as he is, obviously he would have given him a larger prescription!


                          

He wants some money, because he is starving?! Hmm, funny how are you buying codeine and such? The homeless shelter only gives him one meal a day. Funny, a few days ago my son told me how he is eating so much better! 

Can we not just talk? No, at home everything revolved around drugs. Outside, everything revolves around drugs. Our relationship will not change until my son faces up to his addiction. I know that, now I need to wait for my son to come to that conclusion as well.

As we left the cafe, my son asked for a lift to a corner shop near my house even though he said he was meeting a friend near where the cafe is soon. Why? To buy a can of cheap cider. Oh I guess he is not entirely penniless. OK, upon getting into my car he pokes around the little place where I put change and keep my trolley pound, anything he can find to take.  There is nothing because I have learned to live with absolutely nothing left laying about would be potentially useful to my son.

His plan for the rest of the afternoon? Buy a can of cheap, strong cider. Go to the chemist and look behind the shop in their bins for any discarded medications. Go to maybe a few more chemists that he has heard from the other homeless people are relaxed about disposing of drugs. Try to remember to meet his friend. Go back to where the shelter is and possibly pop into the off license opposite and try to steal a bottle of wine. Get taken back to his accommodation and consume what he has successful obtained. Lovely skills son!

On the bright side, I am discovering that I am becoming stronger and stronger and letting go of the guilt and feelings of responsibility of my son's addiction. Never in a million years would I have been able to envision this situation 6 months ago. I have actually told and watched my son leave my home. He has become homeless. He is asking for "help" and I am saying no. I have turned him away in the cold night when he appears at my door unannounced intoxicated. I have told him to leave my house during a visit over the emotional and lonely holiday period because he broke the rules and lied. I have managed to do this all without tears, well, without too many tears, without breaking. I have managed to smile and laugh and go out and feel happy with other people guilt free. I will keep contact with my son, I will continue to advise him and love him, but I will no longer let his choices destroy 4 lives. I accept that my choices were not the best and in some ways my choices contributed to his unhappiness, but it was his choice, not mine, to use drugs to buffer his sadness or dissatisfaction with life. I am here to help, along with others, when he is ready.

Actually, my son may be learning new "skills" at the moment that I am not proud of, (but again it is his choice), but I am learning new skills as well on how to be stronger and happier and still remain supportive. I am showing my daughters that life does not only go on, but it can get better. In the end I hope that one choice my son will make, is the choice to seek help and the choice to start on the road to recovery. I also hope that when that day comes and he is enjoying more sober and enlightened days, he will look back and see who was there for him and see how much we have all grown.

                                  

Why Bother?

There comes a point when you realise all your hopes and dreams have been crushed.  You accept your helplessness and that there is nothing you can do to change all the things that bring you pain.

I am at that point. I understand why people turn to drugs. How wonderful it would be if these feelings could disappear,  even if only temporarily. That's why my son is an addict, so he can mask the unbearable pain. I wish I could take solace in something to make my pain go away, but I have nothing.

                                           

Life goes on, but we are not living. Why does life go on? Why am I and my son and my daughters to some lesser extent, living in this purgatory?  How can this be? I do not understand what I did so terribly wrong in my life to be surrounded by so much pain and suffering and injustice?  I do not understand how my precious, oh so very precious, son has turned into such a monster that I barely recognise,  driven by fear and anger and an insatiable hunger for mind numbing drugs? The happiest day in my life was when he was born. Never ever would I have expected our lives to go down these dark, dead roads.

It makes no sense.  I am tired of trying to understand. I am exhausted by trying to find solutions. I am drained by the endless tears and emotional pain.
I am helpless.  It all seems hopeless. I should except my defeat. While my son continues to live his life in his numbed bubble, I can't continue this lifeless life......

I always believed in magic,  in love,  in hope. I now see there is darkness that is impenetrable by those things I once believed in.

I must think of my daughters, but the fight I have been fighting alone for my son has been long and hard. It is getting harder with the passing of time and I am afraid I have given so much that there is nothing left now to give to my beautiful and innocent girls.

Damn those drugs that took over my son's true self. Damn you world for creating situations that caused my son pain and anxiety. Damn those people who caused my son intense emotional pain.  And damn myself for making wrong choices and not being strong enough, rich enough,  clever enough to have created a better life for him, for me and my daughters.