Someone's Heroin Addict

Let me say MERRY CHRISTMAS to all of you. The Christmas season is here, and it can really be a time of joy and happiness for us all. I know it is for me. I’m fortunate to live on Christmas Tree Lane, and many nights I sit by myself in my front yard around the fire pit and watch all the cars drive down the lane. I can hear the laughter coming from the children as they see all the lights and Santa on my lawn. I often wonder how many of those kids I am going to be seeing in the years to come.

My dad was a music guy. For those of you that didn’t know him, he was an unbelievable singer and every Christmas he would have his choir sing on Christmas Tree Lane and there I would be at 6, 7 and 8 years old, singing Christmas carols with my dad. It brought him great pride in having his only son standing with him as he directed his choir. It never occurred to him that one day his son would grow up to become a drug addict!

At 63 years of age, it is obvious I grew up in a whole different era. In those days you didn’t talk about alcoholism, let alone drug addiction, and especially around the holidays. Every family had a crazy uncle or someone close, who you know, had a “problem.” It was no different in my family. Looking back, I’m sure my family had some idea I was using drugs, but no one ever addressed the issue with me. Maybe if someone had, I might not have gone through 23 years of full-blown addiction. My father passed away in 2008 and he would be proud of what I do today but more than anything he would be proud his son is clean and sober.

It seems to me that whatever cause we Americans are involved in, we give it our all during the holidays but then we fade away the rest of the year. So, this Christmas, and for the rest of the year, let’s not forget those families and individuals struggling with addiction. Remember that everyone you think is just a drug addict is one of those children that rode with their parents down the lane, laughing and singing Christmas carols. I can’t tell you the joy I have in hearing those children laugh because so often I hear crying and see the heartache of addiction.

My prayer this Christmas is that I will never have to see any of those children that passed by my house on Christmas Tree Lane and that we can get our message out that every drug addict belongs to someone. They have mothers and fathers, siblings and friends and we want the addict to return to us as they once were, as clean and sober, compassionate, caring people so every family can enjoy not only Christmas, but every day of the rest of their lives.

Merry Christmas!

Flindt Andersen