Gambling is a Family Disease and We Got Sick

My mom became a chronic gambler when she was in her 40s. At that time, my siblings and I were in our late teens, so worrying about the financial losses wasn’t a burden yet. That came later.

I spent decades of my life worrying about her and holding one-person interventions on her alcoholism, so the gambling issue didn’t seem as important.

When you’re a kid, you hear labels and don’t realize they could apply to you. Or to people you love the most. “Chronic gambler” and “alcoholic” are all-encompassing edicts that imply the person is horrible through and through. No redeeming qualities.

My family members weren’t church-going or strait-laced. We lived on a small family farm, and as all the money was sunk into paying the mortgage, we had very little to spend on extras. Grandma and Grandpa, in a new home on the property, hosted lots of dinners. We said the Lord’s Prayer, but that was the extent of our religious habit. Harper Valley PTA and the notion of the religious hypocrite was a much-discussed issue in my home.

Consequently, I grew up with a keen understanding of the concept of gray. Nothing black and white.