When women apply to Blue Monarch, they are required to fill
out an eight-page application that asks, among other things, “What is your drug
of choice and when did you start using this drug?” They are given the opportunity to list lots of drugs, not
just one, and rank them in order of preference.
Remarkably, the age for first time use that shows up quite
often is eleven. This has always
been hard for me to imagine. Naturally
it makes me immediately picture my own world at the age of eleven and wonder
what would have caused me to start using drugs at such a young age.
I’d say the closest I came to breaking the law at the age of
eleven was when my best friend, Debbie, and I decided to pretend we were
burglars. I am not sure in
thinking back why that was so fascinating to us, but I suspect we had watched
way too much GET SMART on television. We put lots of preparation into this
plan and had every detail rehearsed well in advance of the heist.
When the appointed night came, after a tall glass of
chocolate milk, we innocently said goodnight to Debbie’s parents and went off
to bed. As soon as the house got
quiet, we stripped off our nightgowns, revealing the black shirts and pants we
had hidden underneath. After
synchronizing our watches – not sure why - we pulled her mother’s expensive, nylon
stockings over our heads (which distorted our faces beyond recognition) and
stuck black stocking caps on top before grabbing pillowcases for our stash –
her mother’s jewels (which we honestly planned to return the following day).
The first order of business was to go through the entire
house and unscrew all the light bulbs so we would not be discovered in the
dark. First stop: her parents’
bathroom, which in looking back seems awfully ambitious. We tiptoed into their bedroom, quietly
opened the bathroom door, and I proceeded to crawl up on top of the sink. Their vanity had a Hollywood mirror
with lots of large, round light bulbs all around it. I stood up and straddled the sink, reached up to the top of
the mirror, and carefully unscrewed the first bulb just enough so that it
wouldn’t light if someone turned on the switch. Good job. But
just as I began unscrewing the second bulb, it suddenly fell into the sink and
bounced around making the most horrible, unbelievably loud clanging sound.
Debbie’s parents rushed into the bathroom and that moment
forever froze in time. First of
all, I had never seen Debbie’s glamorous mother without her makeup, so that was
a stunning surprise. And her
father was already a mystery to me, so I didn’t quite know what to expect from
him. But the looks of horror that
quickly turned into shock and then disgust, were something I will never
forget. It was a long time before
I was invited back for a sleepover, and my life of crime ended that night.
But the other day as I was talking with our residents around
the kitchen table, I asked them to recall some of their own memories at the age
of eleven so I could understand how drug use could start at such a tender age –
an age when I didn’t even know what drugs were, and could barely get my cat eye glasses on straight.
One immediately told about being molested by her mother’s
boyfriend and how her mother wouldn’t believe her. Another talked about having to drive the car at the age of
eleven because her mother was often in no shape to drive. One woman remembers her father driving
away from the house in a rage and running over her on her bike. And sadly, another woman recalled
walking the streets for hours looking for her mother who would disappear for
weeks, leaving her to care for her younger brother.
So it’s no mystery why drugs looked like a good solution at
the age of eleven. Why not? It numbed the pain, and the adults in
the house were doing it, too.
We can’t go back and redo those painful eleven-year-old memories
for our residents, even though I often wish we could. But here is what we can
do:
We can make sure that the precious children we serve at Blue
Monarch have good memories of their mothers tucking them in bed at night after
saying their prayers. They will
remember waking up in the morning, not wondering where their mom was, but
seeing her as soon as they opened their eyes. They’ll know they didn’t have to wonder if she would be
there when they got off the school bus.
And they will remember feeling the safety of a secure home, night after
night, and the love of a nurturing environment on a beautiful farm with room to
romp and play the way children are supposed to.
And then the cycle will be broken. One eleven-year-old at a time.
Lord, we thank you
that Blue Monarch is a place where beautiful memories are made. We believe an eleven-year-old is still
a child who deserves a happy childhood.
Thank you for making that happen in such an amazing way for the precious
children we serve. And we pray for
healing for all the eleven-year-old memories that are not what they should be
but are hopefully the last of their kind in the family tree. Amen.
