©2021 by Vernon Miles Kerr, VernonMilesKerr.com
Relapse. I hate that word. It’s the hidden demon in every attempt to rehabilitate from drugs or alcohol. It’s strength is beyond my understanding. I’ve seen it crash the attempts of both my son and grandson. For my son, it was unto death—for my grandson, not quite yet. At this moment he’s in jail, suffering the effects of another relapse, after several years of relative normalcy.
Even the addicts are constantly aware of it’s lurking in the background. My son was in a rehab facility in a large old house in San Diego. A stray cat showed up and was adopted by the patients. How could they know how long he would grace them with his presence? They named him “Relapse.”