"Muffin's dead!"

When I lived on my horse farm, I had a kind, young neighbor, Jeff, who was great at teaching me everything I needed to know: how to run my John Deere tractor, how to bush hog back and forth in rows rather than a circle, how to cut, rake, and get up hay, and most of all, how to jump ditches on a four-wheeler in the dark. He was a terrific neighbor and friend.

One afternoon my daughter and I drove home from school and discovered our dog, Muffin, had been killed on the highway in front of our farm. We were devastated.  Muffin was a small, black and white, sweet dog, and of course a stray. With tears streaming down our faces, I carefully loaded Muffin into the trunk of my car, checking for any sign of life, and headed over to Jeff’s house to see if he would help me dig a hole to bury her. I was never good at digging a hole, even if I jumped up and down on the shovel.  

Jeff had never seen me so emotional, and he looked alarmed, “What’s wrong?  What happened?”  

“Muffin’s dead!” I blubbered out.

After an awkward pause, Jeff asked with great concern, “What can I do?”

“I need you to help me bury her,” I replied. He looked a little surprised and hesitant, but willing.

Jeff immediately began gathering up the necessary tools and followed us back to our place. “Where do you want to do this?” he asked.

“Oh, I guess under that big tree behind the barn.” Jeff gave me a funny look but unloaded the tools from the back of his truck.

Jeff began digging the biggest hole you have ever seen. He kept digging and digging, insisting that it was important to get deep enough. Quite frankly, I felt it was a little overkill, but he usually knew best about such things. I assumed the excessive hole was to keep varmints from digging up our precious Muffin, which would be traumatic. I appreciated he was looking out for us.  

Finally, out of breath and soaking in sweat, Jeff carefully laid down the shovel and said, “Okay, where is she?”

“In the trunk of my car.”  

“In the trunk of your car?!” He seemed alarmed. Very cautiously, Jeff walked over to the car while I lifted open the trunk.

“That’s Muffin!” Jeff said. He seemed shocked.

“Well, yeah. I told you, Muffin’s dead.”

“I thought you said, muh friend's dead!”

No wonder the hole was so big. Needless to say, we got a good laugh, and it certainly lightened up a very sad moment. I immediately filed his name away as the world’s greatest friend and neighbor.

But in looking back, I cannot imagine what was going through his mind as he dug that enormous hole. Was he planning to report an unlawful burial later? Did he wonder how my friend died? Was he going to pretend it never happened? Perhaps he trusted me so much, he saw no need to question the details.  

The Blue Monarch journey is a very long process that requires major changes in thinking patterns and behavior. An area that is always challenging is the true meaning of healthy friendships. There is often a very distorted perspective on what that really means. What may seem like loyalty is in fact, complicity. Control is misinterpreted as respect. Accountability feels like snitching. These are very difficult concepts to reverse - especially when they have been developed over multiple generations.  

For instance, here is one that I will never understand. Apparently, it is often considered a code of honor to take the rap and serve jail time for someone else’s crime to protect a friend. This “selfless act” somehow earns a place of great respect and moves one up the totem pole of ethics in a way that makes little sense to most of us. It somehow gets confused with “taking a bullet to save another’s life” when it really isn’t the same thing at all. Why would I pay the price for someone else’s mistake - especially when it jeopardizes my own family? Why would I carry that secret to my grave? Remarkably, this scenario is one that is oddly, quite common.

However, from what I can tell, this demonstration of twisted loyalty comes with a pretty high price as well. The one who was protected is naturally indebted to the one who paid his or her debt to society, whether it’s intentional or not. It creates significant control with unclear closure. What does it take to pay off that debt? Can it be paid?

Addiction can cloud all kinds of good judgement. It may cause mothers to risk the well-being and safety of their children by putting unhealthy friendships and relationships first. Sadly, there are a boatload of reasons for this. Many times, she is trying to fill a big hole in her heart by hanging onto a bad relationship, or perhaps the friendship provides something she’s convinced she cannot live without. Meanwhile, the child can get lost in the shuffle.

The wheel of recovery has many spokes, and this is one that is often overlooked. If a mother leaves Blue Monarch and has not developed better discernment in the friends she chooses, and has not learned to put her kids first, she will likely end up right back where she started and her children will suffer as collateral damage.   

We have regular family meetings and encourage the women we serve to hold each other accountable and bring to light any actions or attitudes that might hinder one’s recovery or the recovery of the group. We also remind them, when someone breaks a rule or refuses to do her chores, the person who keeps this to herself will be held just as accountable as the one at fault. This shift in perspective can take a long time to grasp, and even appears to be physically painful for some, because “snitching” has been considered such a hideous, despicable act, regardless of the circumstances or consequences. We explain that a good friend will hold others to a higher standard. Letting a friend slack is not helping her.  

It takes time and a lot of hard work to shift from “no way, I’ll never tell” to “you are not going to get in the way of my recovery or jeopardize my child’s safety - no matter what.” When we hear a mother stand up for her family at the risk of a friendship, our staff members exchange glances as if to say, “Yay! Another one has crossed over!” 

It’s an exciting moment because it means the mother, who had her priorities confused when she got here, has become a protective mom who will put her child first, no matter what. That’s when her family will begin to change in ways they never imagined - and oddly enough, that is when her friendships will get stronger and healthier as well.  

Whew! One more spoke in that wheel. Check.