Sunday was a peaceful day at our house. Mike skipped Sunday School and rode with me to church. We had lunch at our favorite Chinese restaurant, and while I took a nap, he went to Timberlake to visit Ron. He's still retiring at 6:00 to watch TV in the bedroom, but it's a habit I can live with. "You always blamed the alcohol for my going to bed at 6," he said, "so what will you blame now?"

"Your mother, the drug addict," I replied, "since she isolated herself in her bedroom so much. Maybe you want to be like her." That stung. I could tell from the look on his face.

"I don't want to be like my mother," he said through clinched teeth. The idea that irrational behavior was the norm in his childhood home due to his mother's addiction to tranquilizers, and that he has continued that practice with his drinking seemed new to him, even though we've talked about it several times. Learning new ways to relate as a responsible adult is not something he's put much effort into.

It's a hard thing to overcome. I recognize the worst traits of my parents in myself all the time. It's the hand we were dealt, but we don't have to keep playing. At some point, we have to put those cards down and walk away from the table, learn a new game, new skills, new ways.

He's planning to go to the noon meeting of AA today. I hope he comes home with a 1 week chip to mark his progress. It's a small token, but it represents a week long struggle against very destructive forces. I hope he finds new friends and a sponsor who can help him. Lord, in your mercy, hear my prayer.