My Grown Up Christmas Gift

HopeIt’s with utmost respect and honor that I bring you today’s blog post.  I want to share one of the most valuable and precious Christmas gifts I have ever received.   It’s a poem written by one of my own.  My son gave me permission to share this with you today.  It wasn’t his intention to share this normally, very private, thing with the world, but it’s such a beautiful thing that, how can the world not get to experience it.  The back story to this, are years of addiction, many rehab programs, and several seasons of recovery followed by relapse.  Not that the journey is over, but this time feels different.  There is new life and hope that hasn’t been felt before.  I’m proud of my son and the positive steps that he is taking toward his new and wonderful future.  Together, we share this private moment in time today, not to exploit a man’s suffering, but to bring hope to other moms, dads, brothers, sisters and family members of addicts.  My son’s heart is much the same as mine, to help and love others.  Here is our gift to you.  May this season of hope live on in the New Year.  Merry Christmas!


For the Family

How can I even begin to express

About this time last year I was undoubtedly distraught, surely lost,

Senseless direction, heading nowhere, the trail had long since gone cold

Solid ground so ever elusive

The fear of death was becoming reality

I had abandoned all hope and lying to myself and everyone else in the process

Sick of pain and sobbing in a drunken stupor, I knew I couldn’t deny the truth

I was robbing myself of a life rich with meaning and warm hearted affairs

So I did what all good gangsters do and I called my parents, E.T. phone home

An answer, always an answer, as close as man can come, to divine love

They listened, always listened; I knew I had to get back to the desert

The place I once believed to be my problem, these people, these mountains, these

plastic possessions

Technology, pornography, dystrophy, all around me

But what I’m getting at ain’t so easily said, but seen out of your own two see’ers  instead

I got lost

The stupid story of the prodigal son haunts me like a rake does a garden gnome

And every time I was welcomed back, grace with a warm blanket of unconditional love

I am warm in my family’s arms

Fingers not so stiff and bleeding

I am charged with intense emotional uplift in the arms of my blood

Not so lethargic and glum, the fog lifts a little and I can finally breathe some

I am delighted to be born into such a solid rock of a household

Homesick and uprooted I am shaky and alone

I am blessed with a family who could never see me how I see myself

Distasteful, wasteful, hell in a bucket

The true meaning of the holidays is this


I hope I’ve expressed in some way what I’m so desperately trying to say

I have the best family

From it stem the strongest roots

And I am so grateful and so floored to have made it back

If I’d had the choice to choose, I would have sold myself short

I am a man among angels

You see right through me

Thank you



Do You Hear Their Tears…

Yesterday I attended the funeral of a young man who died when he should have been entering the best years of his life.  I wept with the family and friends as they shared his stories, some humorous, others sad.  It was very evident that John was loved and even in his short life he had a positive influence on many in attendance.

At the same time, there was an unsettling undercurrent of thought for me.  At the funeral, you “saw” the tears.  A brave few expressed the depths of the emotion they felt, not just the sadness but the anger and intense pain.  Questions of, “Why did he have to leave us?”,  “Why such a tragic end?”,  “Why didn’t I do more to help?”, all remained unanswered.

The fact is there are many around us each day who are dealing with intense pain.  They desperately need a kind word, a comforting thought, a warm hug, but there smile hides what’s inside.  They move among us and walk beside us.  For them today, I share…

Do You Hear Their Tears?

Do you hear the tears that trickle slowly down her cheek,

Do you hear the heart explosions of overwhelming grief?

Can you feel the intense hatred of those oppressed by war,

Can you feel the cold indifference of the one whose been beaten to the core?

Do you see the shivers of the forsaken, homeless, left out in the cold,

Do you see the pain of hungry millions, both the young and very old?

Have you touched the forgotten prisoner who’ll live forever with his past,

Have you touched the lonely widow, wishing each day were her last.

Do you hear the tears of the addict who cries desperately to be free,

Do you hear the darkness of the hopeless who search for light so they may see?

Have you known mental illness or do you understand it’s pain,

Have you known depths of depression, the fight to just stay sane?

So many helpless hurting people surround us everyday.

Do we really see their faces or do we hurry on our way?

Do we look to see a smile or pain within their eyes,

Do we care if their sun is shining or clouded with gray skies?

Would it really even matter if those next to us are crushed,

If we cared to see or feel their pain, would it slow us in our rush?

Would we stop for just a moment to give something of ourselves,

More than just our dollars, but what’s drawn deep from inner wells?

Inner wells of strength and courage, hope and comfort, even love

Yes, we all have something we can share, not forgetting God above.

Do you hear the tears of his heart, as He longs for us to be…

Salt and light, help and hope, love and peace,  people living free?

Do you hear the tears?

Those who have felt, have heard the tears.

Written by Bobbi Spargo

From a Parent’s Heart

From a Parent’s Heart was written for a son who was in an addiction recovery program at the time.  It applies for any parent who has a child struggling with one of the many issues of life.  We share for the benefit of other parents, sons and daughters.  You’re not alone.  Never give up.

The day you began life’s journey And these shoes once fit your feet,

You followed a man with much bigger shoes, You, so innocent and sweet.

You may have followed his examples, You may have shunned them in conceit.

Regardless of paths that lead you here, Don’t lay your life down in defeat.

The road ahead is hard and long, With many obstacles in the way.

You must keep moving forward, Each sunrise is a brand new day.

A fresh beginning is before you, A new outlook is ahead.

You can have a life worth living, Wrong steps lead to a future that is dead.

Your shoes are much bigger today, You’ve now become a man.

Whose footsteps will you follow now?  Consider your future as you plan.

Someday you may hold a baby, So innocent and sweet

You will gaze into his eyes and These shoes will fit his feet.

Your love for him will be all consuming, Intensity unfelt before,

You will want to give him all the best. He is beautiful, he’s yours.

What path will you lead this child on?  What future will you give him?

Today is the day to think ahead, Each choice, each step affects him.

There will be times you stumble, Just like when you were young.

Did you stay on the ground then?  No, you got up and now you run.

So my big man – get up And run with all your might.

Let the will and strength within you Be your power to do what’s right.

Keep focused on your future, Don’t be discouraged by what’s been lost

Don’t let distractions rob what’s yours ahead, When making choices count the cost.

There are others standing with you, We who once gazed in to your eyes

That overwhelming love we felt, Has never really died.

Yes, we’ve had some hard times, We’ve fought, we’ve yelled, we’ve cried.

The hurt has left wounds and scars, But we will never leave your side.

We’ve forgiven but not forgotten, We know your journey isn’t through.

And like that day many years ago, We still want what’s best for you.

The day is fast approaching, When by law, you’ll be a man.

We pray that you’ve awakened, Your future’s in your hand.

Those tiny shoes that you now hold, Represent tiny feet and steps to come.

We know that you will make it, Your not just anyone, you’re our son.

All of our love forever!

Mom and Dad

Written by Bobbi Spargo

This song is for all of my kids: