Arlene Glanville

Healing Comes Full Circle
Mount Holyoke Alumnae Quarterly Summer 2000
By Arlene Glanville FP '00

Our son Christopher grew into a handsome, talented young man whose sunny nature brought a smile wherever he went. We never imagined that Chris would become a statistic, but he did. His daredevil personality was ripe for "giving it a try," and the unrelenting power of drugs claimed him at age twenty-eight. We were devastated, angry, and bewildered when he died of an overdose. A parent never fully recovers from the untimely death of a child. It is a suspension in time, where the mind says, "He's gone," the emotions try to reach out and touch him and the heart weeps and weeps.

How does a tornado victim survive? He assesses the damage, and concludes; "I can rebuild! I have my life and the love of those in my family." When Chris's death ripped through our lives, tornado-like, we reeled from its impact; and the debris of our world shattered all around us seemed insurmountable.I assessed the damage. Of my five remaining children, two were still in school and living at home; my husband's heart problem was a direct result of our personal tragedy; my four sons and only daughter were grappling with the loss of their "hero." But it is within the makeup of every mother to nurture and to protect, and my instincts finally prevailed as I began to "rebuild."

The greatest task is to live as though nothing has changed, when the reality is the opposite. "Busy...keep busy," I told myself, or lapse into the deep emptiness that was once Chris. I guided my two youngest into careers and college choices. I consoled, I encouraged; yet I ranted and raged in private. Conversations at Chris's grave brought some relief. I chided him for leaving us, expressed my guilt for not doing more and wept when no answers were forthcoming. Then Little Nick, our new grandson, entered our troubled world with a burst of sunlight and a big smile--just like Chris's. Our spirits were rejuvenated, but not healed.

My husband Terry and I restructured our days together. I began to take courses at Holyoke Community College, and found them invigorating and a means of understanding many questions I had concerning my life. Terry encouraged my studies, and as one success followed another, I immersed myself in schoolwork. Lifting me away from my memories, it made me feel worthwhile and gave me direction. What a thrill it was to graduate with honors and be accepted at Mount Holyoke.

My experience here has been the frosting on the cake. Professors lectured and probed, and I grasped at every opportunity to learn. Sociology and psychology courses searched my heartsick soul and offered some solace. Then revelation finally came! Was it my role in life to help others whose lives were riddled by substance abuse or other difficult life issues? Could I help alleviate the pain of families in trouble?

During an internship at Safety Net Transitional Home for Women in Northampton, a void Chris had left began to fill. Beginning to understand the dynamics of substance abuse on patient and family, I could share conversations with these women that Chris and I never had.

It has been a long, hard journey. Good friends, understanding professors and challenging experiences have been the medicine for me. I owe so much to so many. Someone out there needs my help. I think I'm ready to make a difference in someone's life.

-- Photo by Paul Schaittacher