by Eileen Goldenberg

Created on: September 15, 2009

There must be nothing worse than the struggles and heartbreak of a parent whose child has succumbed to a life of addiction. As a mother of a teenage son and a young adult daughter, I've had some small heartbreaks over the years, but I am sure nothing like the kind experienced by the parent of an addict. The tears I've shed have always passed, have always been caused by small temporary setbacks. I'm sure they are nothing like the tears shed by my good friend, Sally.

Sally, (not her real name) has a drug-addicted daughter. It is so difficult for us to have a normal conversation about our kids because the circumstances of their lives are so different. I struggle with the thought of my daughter in college 3,000 miles away and the temptations she may face, while I worry about the stresses of my son's senior year in high school and his workload. On the other hand, when Sally wakes up every morning, she worries about where her daughter slept, she wonders if her daughter is still alive.

Sally's daughter is twenty-one, the same age as my daughter. They were friends in preschool. I have hundreds of pictures of the two of them. They were like twins separated at birth, wearing crazy outfits from the dress up box, painting side by side at the easel, grinning at the camera, with arms affectionately around each other. Before long, their preschool friendship blossomed into a "best friends" relationship. During weekend and afterschool playdates, Sally and I also grew close.

We had such high hopes for our girls. Both of them were artistic, both a bit on the wild side and as stronged willed as they come. Through the years, Sally and I bonded, commiserated, shared parenting tips, and yes, celebrated, our daughters' exuberant spirits.

Sally and I are very much alike. We are both in creative fields, and we both loved being involved at our children's schools. We volunteered at their respective schools as homeroom moms, and worked on some of the same community events. We are in comfortable financial situations, we are both celebrating long marriages, and we had similar parenting styles.

Sometime in late middle school, the paths of our girls started to diverge. My daughter channeled her manic energy into performance, and as a result found an outlet and a niche for herself. Was this a turning point for her, the fork in the road hat helped her feel comfortable and successful? It could have been excelling in sports, or a passion for a particular subject, just as easily. Ironically it's

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