Fitting in. I was a follower. I so desperately wanted to fit in that all through my high school I molded myself into what I thought everyone else wanted me to be. My parents, my friends, my teachers, my boyfriends, and on and on. Like a chameleon I was forever changing. Not of course for what I wanted because when you have low self-esteem does it really matter what you want? And what did I get for all this facade? Disappointment, a broken heart, and even lower self-esteem.
When I turned eighteen I thought "now's the time to be who you want to be". But since I had no self confidence and very little direction I continued down the path I always had. I could look the part on the outside but the black hole on the inside was forever expanding. People are shocked when I tell them that I finally began to get real and figure out who I was when I turned 41. The year I entered the doors of AA.
Not right away of course. I mean it does take a while for a million insecurities that have inhabited your life to go away. The voices of self doubt, the humiliation, the "why don't they like me" syndrome. It doesn't shake overnight. So I could so relate to the man that broke down at our Saturday morning meeting. He was frustrated, didn't think he mattered, wasn't sure of who he was....and it took me two seconds to take myself right back to where he was. And I don't like to revisit there too often.
The truth is he does matter. Maybe not to himself but to those of us in the room, he's a reminder of where we have been, and where we can still take ourselves. What I didn't realize is that being in that state of mind has a catastrophic effect on ones life. I didn't know who I was, or if I ever mattered so I let alcohol manage my life. I mean mismanage. I let it effect my job, because I wasn't confident to stand behind my directives, I let it run my marriage, poor C married to a drunk like me, I let it effect my mothering, it all seemed to big and overwhelming, I let it effect my very being. It defined who I was. Now that's pretty sad.
Thank God (literally) for sponsors! Mine took one look at me and knew that she had to teach me to love myself, to stand behind my decisions, to stick up for myself, and to realize that I was the only one who could make myself feel anything. If you told me I was stupid and I believed you, then I just bought your agenda. The transormation has been awesome. I shut my big mouth, and instead of trying to munipulate or bully my way, I've learned to delegate, and direct. Instead of feeling awkward and shy I've learned to extend my hand and make the first move. I've learned to laugh at myself without tearing myself down, to like myself without vanity, to take criticism and make it work, and to own who I am.
This in turn has made me a better employee, a better spouse(have a lot of work in this department) a better parent, daughter, friend, and all around person. She taught me that the biggest weakness is buying someone else's agenda, and not trusting myself. That my HP loves me in weakness and in strength. I am not perfect, and I have no desire to be. Do I fully know who I am? No, it will hopefully take a lifetime to figure out. Love yourself, embrace your uniqueness. Who cares what the status quo does? I cared and look where it got me. A big black hole with little inside. Thankfully that hole is very small these days, and getting smaller as time goes on.
So what's the greatest gift you can give someone? To let them know they matter. That they are important. We made sure this fellow AA man did Saturday morning. That if he was feeling like he didn't belong it's because he was letting that happen. We were ready any time he was. And you know what? Saturday evening he came to the potluck speaker meeting, and he ate, and he laughed, and he listened, and he left with a smile.
Every once in a while I find myself not feeling worthy. But then I remember what I've been taught. I take an inventory of all the awesome people in my life, I give thanks to my HP and I tell myself I matter. Because I do, because you do, we all do! The world is a big place and not always kind, so the next time you're not feeling so great about yourself, stop and give yourself a little love, a pep talk, and a mental hug. It's the best thing you can do for yourself, and for those around you. It's a "win, win" situation.......
Monday, February 27, 2012
Thursday, February 16, 2012
Flash 55 Friday
Simplified
It's not the chocolates,
the flowers, or the cards
No gold crown store will
ever get rich on us,
No romantic dinners or candles,
and Victoria's secrets
But the scraping of the windshield, the
warming of my car, cleaning up the dishes,
while I take a long bath, these
are Valentines that last and last.....
It's not that I'm not a romantic but I appreiate the little things now. While people at work were receiving boquets of flowers, or munching on chocolates I was treated to my car windshield being scraped, the interior warmed, dishes cleaned up after dinner, and an opportunity to take a long uninterrupted bath...these are the thoughtful things we do for those we love, on a daily basis, not just once a year. Sweet! Have a great weekend.....
It's not the chocolates,
the flowers, or the cards
No gold crown store will
ever get rich on us,
No romantic dinners or candles,
and Victoria's secrets
But the scraping of the windshield, the
warming of my car, cleaning up the dishes,
while I take a long bath, these
are Valentines that last and last.....
It's not that I'm not a romantic but I appreiate the little things now. While people at work were receiving boquets of flowers, or munching on chocolates I was treated to my car windshield being scraped, the interior warmed, dishes cleaned up after dinner, and an opportunity to take a long uninterrupted bath...these are the thoughtful things we do for those we love, on a daily basis, not just once a year. Sweet! Have a great weekend.....
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Entitlement
I love books. It's true, besides alcohol I can say books are another addiction of mine. I am pretty sure I came out of the womb reading because I can't remember a time when I couldn't. I'm like some wired nutcase in a bookstore. I love the colors, the titles, the shapes. Good thing I never seem to have a lot of extra money or I would go wild and keep buying books.
To counter my ever growing library my husband and oldest child thought a Nook Tablet would be a great place for me to store my books. However it just gave me another resource for reading and I am often reading one physical book and one Nook book at the same time. So imagine my utter devestation when I found out our oldest child had Dyslexia. I remember being so confused that the child could draw, and create, and build enormous Lego creations but couldn't read simple books.
He struggled for years, we took out a loan and sent him for special tutoring. It wasn't until he was in the sixth grade and a teacher told us that he spelled phonetically that we began to sense there was something else going on. Sure enough, he had Dyslexia. He was missing an entire area of "bank words". Words that all of us know and tuck away. His grades and self-esteem were struggling. He had to see a psychiatrist. I was devestated. How could my child not have my love of the written word?
(Are you catching all the I's?) Well he had a lot more tutoring after that and today he is planning to go to college. He's taking AP courses, could have graduated a semester early and has a 3.9 GPA. In other words he's just fine. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise that his younger brother and sister would also struggle with the same learning disability. Our middle son has just a touch but with regular tutoring he stays on track. Our daughter is a different story.
She has some ADD along with her Dyslexia. But where her older brother could grasp and move on, she works at a much different place. This made me frustrated. She gets tutored a lot. Like five days a week. Her progress at times is very slow. And then in the next breath, she's brilliant. A puzzle for sure. So a few days ago I headed to a conference with her reading specialist. I knew what to expect, I knew what was going to be said, part of me didn't even want to go. But as usual my HP has bigger plans than me. I went, I shut my mouth, and I listened. I came away for once wondering what I could do. Really do....
The answer came in a book I am currently reading. "Unwasted" by Sacha Scoblic is a great book about one woman's journey into sobriety. The author is funny, candid, and not afraid of the truth. And truth is just what she handed me. She was talking about trading one addiction for another. Something I know I'm partial to. Hers was spending instead of drinking. How did she finally kick this habit? By realizing that she wasn't entitled to a lifestyle she thought she was, and she started to accept the life she had.
Bingo! At that moment my whole thought process shifted. I had been so wrapped up in what I thought I was entitled to. A lifestyle without issues, good children with great grades, high achievers, kids that didn't need tutoring, and on and on. How humbling to realize that it wasn't about me. It's about them. My role is to throw out what I thought I was entitled to and to start focusing on what was in the here and now.
Since then I've stepped up to the plate. I've started researching what I can do to help her learn the way she needs to learn. I work with her an extra hour each night. The progress is slow but she's doing fine. She needs me to give her every tool to succeed. I can do that by setting my agenda down. I'm not entitled to a perfect life. I have been given the ability to help her succeed, and I need to use that to be there for her.
I needed this lesson. By laying down what I thought I was entitled to I was able to focus on what I've been given. Which are wonderfully, talented, creative, beautiful children who simply learn differently than others. I needed a dose of humility, and I found it in a book about recovery. How awesome is that.....(like I needed another reason to buy more books ;-)
To counter my ever growing library my husband and oldest child thought a Nook Tablet would be a great place for me to store my books. However it just gave me another resource for reading and I am often reading one physical book and one Nook book at the same time. So imagine my utter devestation when I found out our oldest child had Dyslexia. I remember being so confused that the child could draw, and create, and build enormous Lego creations but couldn't read simple books.
He struggled for years, we took out a loan and sent him for special tutoring. It wasn't until he was in the sixth grade and a teacher told us that he spelled phonetically that we began to sense there was something else going on. Sure enough, he had Dyslexia. He was missing an entire area of "bank words". Words that all of us know and tuck away. His grades and self-esteem were struggling. He had to see a psychiatrist. I was devestated. How could my child not have my love of the written word?
(Are you catching all the I's?) Well he had a lot more tutoring after that and today he is planning to go to college. He's taking AP courses, could have graduated a semester early and has a 3.9 GPA. In other words he's just fine. So it shouldn't have come as a surprise that his younger brother and sister would also struggle with the same learning disability. Our middle son has just a touch but with regular tutoring he stays on track. Our daughter is a different story.
She has some ADD along with her Dyslexia. But where her older brother could grasp and move on, she works at a much different place. This made me frustrated. She gets tutored a lot. Like five days a week. Her progress at times is very slow. And then in the next breath, she's brilliant. A puzzle for sure. So a few days ago I headed to a conference with her reading specialist. I knew what to expect, I knew what was going to be said, part of me didn't even want to go. But as usual my HP has bigger plans than me. I went, I shut my mouth, and I listened. I came away for once wondering what I could do. Really do....
The answer came in a book I am currently reading. "Unwasted" by Sacha Scoblic is a great book about one woman's journey into sobriety. The author is funny, candid, and not afraid of the truth. And truth is just what she handed me. She was talking about trading one addiction for another. Something I know I'm partial to. Hers was spending instead of drinking. How did she finally kick this habit? By realizing that she wasn't entitled to a lifestyle she thought she was, and she started to accept the life she had.
Bingo! At that moment my whole thought process shifted. I had been so wrapped up in what I thought I was entitled to. A lifestyle without issues, good children with great grades, high achievers, kids that didn't need tutoring, and on and on. How humbling to realize that it wasn't about me. It's about them. My role is to throw out what I thought I was entitled to and to start focusing on what was in the here and now.
Since then I've stepped up to the plate. I've started researching what I can do to help her learn the way she needs to learn. I work with her an extra hour each night. The progress is slow but she's doing fine. She needs me to give her every tool to succeed. I can do that by setting my agenda down. I'm not entitled to a perfect life. I have been given the ability to help her succeed, and I need to use that to be there for her.
I needed this lesson. By laying down what I thought I was entitled to I was able to focus on what I've been given. Which are wonderfully, talented, creative, beautiful children who simply learn differently than others. I needed a dose of humility, and I found it in a book about recovery. How awesome is that.....(like I needed another reason to buy more books ;-)
Monday, February 13, 2012
The "oneness" of sobriety,,,,
I've heard it said at meetings that alcoholism is a selfish disease. Selfish when active and selfish in recovery. Even though the program is a "we" the alcoholic stands alone in the fact that only he or she can become sober. No one else can do it for you. No one can wish it, push it, work your program, make the changes, its all up to the individual. You have to stand in front of the mirror and own that person. With all its baggage. You!
Its hard to be a "one" in a sea of so many. Especailly when you cross over the bridge. At one time you were standing on that cliff, but you started out, you began to leave the others, the more you went forward, the farther back they stayed. Before you knew it, you were across the bridge and standing on the other side. No matter how good you felt, you couldn't bring anyone with you. I'm refering to the February 12th. reading in Melody Beattie's "Language of Letting Go". I have read this reading many times. It reminds me from where I came, where I am now, and exactly what I can do.
It used to upset me. "You mean I can't bring everyone over with me?", "but I want everyone to experience the other side!" I was always a saver. I brought home many stray people, whose family was broken, who had an addiction, who just needed someone I was going to save them all. Funny, all I usually did was break my own heart. I always offered this help wether they asked or not. I'm sure most people were not happy with my ignorant intentions. It wasn't until my sponsor taught me a very important lesson. "The only person you are capable of saving is yourself". At one time I wasn't even sure this was possible. But it comes down to one simple thing: choice.
I chose to save myself. I was saddened when I heard of Whitney Houston's passing, but I wasn't surprised. When I graduated in 1987 Whitney was just beginning to hit her peak. I loved her voice, I loved her look. I still sing to "I Want to Dance With Somebody". However when I started parenthood, college, workforce, etc. I only heard bits and pieces of her life. The abuse both physical, and drug and alcohol, the loss of her once beautiful voice. The Whitney I now saw, was not the Whitney I had adored. She was now ruled by a greater force: addiction. No matter what you feel about her passing the truth of reality is that she had a choice. The choice to face her demons or let them destory her. We know what she chose.
This choice can be a lonely one to make. It requires focusing only on what it takes to keep yourself sober. The people that you have hurt, and are waiting for apologies, and living ammends have to sometimes wait, and be patient, while the alcoholic gets their life together. Yes, this is unfair. I had wanted to fix it all in one year, but in many areas of my life, I'm only beginning. It's God's time not mine. My agenda has little to do with it. But I had a choice, you have a choice. No one ever poured a drink down my throat. I did it all myself. Regardless if life seems to big to cope with you still have a choice. I am grateful I chose well. You can cheer others on still left behind, you encourage them to come over the bridge, you can be so happy when they do but you can't carry it for them.
The "oneness" of sobriety seems to be daunting unto itself. But its necessary. You need to know that you can make it. That you have the ability along with your HP to walk across the bridge. You have the ability to make the right choice.....
Its hard to be a "one" in a sea of so many. Especailly when you cross over the bridge. At one time you were standing on that cliff, but you started out, you began to leave the others, the more you went forward, the farther back they stayed. Before you knew it, you were across the bridge and standing on the other side. No matter how good you felt, you couldn't bring anyone with you. I'm refering to the February 12th. reading in Melody Beattie's "Language of Letting Go". I have read this reading many times. It reminds me from where I came, where I am now, and exactly what I can do.
It used to upset me. "You mean I can't bring everyone over with me?", "but I want everyone to experience the other side!" I was always a saver. I brought home many stray people, whose family was broken, who had an addiction, who just needed someone I was going to save them all. Funny, all I usually did was break my own heart. I always offered this help wether they asked or not. I'm sure most people were not happy with my ignorant intentions. It wasn't until my sponsor taught me a very important lesson. "The only person you are capable of saving is yourself". At one time I wasn't even sure this was possible. But it comes down to one simple thing: choice.
I chose to save myself. I was saddened when I heard of Whitney Houston's passing, but I wasn't surprised. When I graduated in 1987 Whitney was just beginning to hit her peak. I loved her voice, I loved her look. I still sing to "I Want to Dance With Somebody". However when I started parenthood, college, workforce, etc. I only heard bits and pieces of her life. The abuse both physical, and drug and alcohol, the loss of her once beautiful voice. The Whitney I now saw, was not the Whitney I had adored. She was now ruled by a greater force: addiction. No matter what you feel about her passing the truth of reality is that she had a choice. The choice to face her demons or let them destory her. We know what she chose.
This choice can be a lonely one to make. It requires focusing only on what it takes to keep yourself sober. The people that you have hurt, and are waiting for apologies, and living ammends have to sometimes wait, and be patient, while the alcoholic gets their life together. Yes, this is unfair. I had wanted to fix it all in one year, but in many areas of my life, I'm only beginning. It's God's time not mine. My agenda has little to do with it. But I had a choice, you have a choice. No one ever poured a drink down my throat. I did it all myself. Regardless if life seems to big to cope with you still have a choice. I am grateful I chose well. You can cheer others on still left behind, you encourage them to come over the bridge, you can be so happy when they do but you can't carry it for them.
The "oneness" of sobriety seems to be daunting unto itself. But its necessary. You need to know that you can make it. That you have the ability along with your HP to walk across the bridge. You have the ability to make the right choice.....
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Flash 55 Friday
February Daze
The sun came knocking
at my back door,
so I opened it wide
and let him come in
He gracefully poured through
the clear plexiglass frame
and quietly spread his
arms full of warmth, across
the kitchen floor and down
the basement steps as the black
cat purred and closed
his green eyes in thanks.....
The other day when I was home, I opened the door to let the sun shine through the storm glass and our black cat Coal was delighted to doze in the warmth. All afternoon he followed the trail of beams until the afternoon turned cool and the sun started to sink. We have been blessed with a very mild winter and I am glad to see the days growing longer. Hoping you all have an awesome weekend :-)
The sun came knocking
at my back door,
so I opened it wide
and let him come in
He gracefully poured through
the clear plexiglass frame
and quietly spread his
arms full of warmth, across
the kitchen floor and down
the basement steps as the black
cat purred and closed
his green eyes in thanks.....
The other day when I was home, I opened the door to let the sun shine through the storm glass and our black cat Coal was delighted to doze in the warmth. All afternoon he followed the trail of beams until the afternoon turned cool and the sun started to sink. We have been blessed with a very mild winter and I am glad to see the days growing longer. Hoping you all have an awesome weekend :-)
Wednesday, February 8, 2012
Two years....
Life is very interesting... in the end, some of your greatest pains, become your greatest strengths.
Drew Barrymore Quote for Overcoming Addiction
This past Monday (Feb. 6th.) marked my 43rd. birthday and my second sober birthday. I remember my first year very well. I think I was shaky for at least the first three months. Very quick to cry, tired, emotionally spent, spiritually bankrupt. Desperate for change. I was lucky, change came.
I have an awesome sponsor. She taught me many things. To love myself, to stand on my own two feet, to put on my big girl panties and face the music, to depend on my HP for strength, to lean on others, to live, to laugh, to love, to love life. She's tough. I never got away with anything. She made me own my sobriety. She became my friend, and she walked every step of the way by my side. I know not all sponsors are created equal. I was one of the fortunate few who chose well, and was given what I needed. For that I am eternally grateful.
I have many friends in AA. People of all walks of life. I can honestly say I never saw the differences only the similarities. They made me feel like I was home. That my disease was no more or no less of a disease than theirs. I love these people. They are my fix, my piece of sanity, my sanctuary when I need to be around those that understand me.
I have had more happen to me in my second year than even I could have imagined. Things I couldn't have prepared myself for, but at least now I had the tools for living to at least deal with these issues and not with a bottle of Vodka. I have faced some fears that seemed larger than life, only to find out how really small they were. I have finally let go, ceased fighting everything and everyone. I know what serenity is.
I have a peace of mind that I didn't know existed. Even when life deals me an unfortunate hand, I can play it and move on. I now know that everything will be ok, if not for today, then for tomorrow. I have stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight. I am grateful for these many lessons.
Life is full of choices. I didn't even know I had a choice, but I do. So do you. I don't always choose well, I'm a work in progress and I hope to never be finished. I also share this special day with a special sober sister: Sober Julie over at "Sober Julie Doing Life". I do not think it was coincidental that we met blogging, it was meant to happen.
I no longer set grandiose expectations for myself. I celebrate all days. There's a lot of joy in the small things. The warmth of the sun pouring in through the windows, a kind word from a stranger, an unexpected hug, the laughter of a child. These are the things that make life sustainable, worth living. And I am grateful I was able to realize this before it was too late. Happy Birthday to me and I hope I have many more....Thank you all for being part of my recovery.......
Drew Barrymore Quote for Overcoming Addiction
This past Monday (Feb. 6th.) marked my 43rd. birthday and my second sober birthday. I remember my first year very well. I think I was shaky for at least the first three months. Very quick to cry, tired, emotionally spent, spiritually bankrupt. Desperate for change. I was lucky, change came.
I have an awesome sponsor. She taught me many things. To love myself, to stand on my own two feet, to put on my big girl panties and face the music, to depend on my HP for strength, to lean on others, to live, to laugh, to love, to love life. She's tough. I never got away with anything. She made me own my sobriety. She became my friend, and she walked every step of the way by my side. I know not all sponsors are created equal. I was one of the fortunate few who chose well, and was given what I needed. For that I am eternally grateful.
I have many friends in AA. People of all walks of life. I can honestly say I never saw the differences only the similarities. They made me feel like I was home. That my disease was no more or no less of a disease than theirs. I love these people. They are my fix, my piece of sanity, my sanctuary when I need to be around those that understand me.
I have had more happen to me in my second year than even I could have imagined. Things I couldn't have prepared myself for, but at least now I had the tools for living to at least deal with these issues and not with a bottle of Vodka. I have faced some fears that seemed larger than life, only to find out how really small they were. I have finally let go, ceased fighting everything and everyone. I know what serenity is.
I have a peace of mind that I didn't know existed. Even when life deals me an unfortunate hand, I can play it and move on. I now know that everything will be ok, if not for today, then for tomorrow. I have stepped out of the shadows and into the sunlight. I am grateful for these many lessons.
Life is full of choices. I didn't even know I had a choice, but I do. So do you. I don't always choose well, I'm a work in progress and I hope to never be finished. I also share this special day with a special sober sister: Sober Julie over at "Sober Julie Doing Life". I do not think it was coincidental that we met blogging, it was meant to happen.
I no longer set grandiose expectations for myself. I celebrate all days. There's a lot of joy in the small things. The warmth of the sun pouring in through the windows, a kind word from a stranger, an unexpected hug, the laughter of a child. These are the things that make life sustainable, worth living. And I am grateful I was able to realize this before it was too late. Happy Birthday to me and I hope I have many more....Thank you all for being part of my recovery.......
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Precious life......
The Summer Day
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
What will you do with your one wild and precious life? This past weekend was the funeral of a friend. This particular family has suffered its share and then some of grief. Four years prior we attended the funeral of their teenage son. This time we said good-bye to the father. How very sad. This man who had a very big heart was gone at the young age of 44. Three children now without a father. The grief was and is very heavy.
Your heart breaks for those left to grieve, for questions you can't answer, for pain you can't take away. Hundreds came to the wake, to say their goodbyes, the church was full for the funeral. I'm always hoping that when someone passes they are able to see how much they were loved. Love and grief were every where.
At the cemetary, during the burial, I looked up. Into a cold January sky, as the clouds were parting, the sun and blue sky struggling to peek through, and the wind whipping the temps frigid. What a time to be alive. To feel the sting on your cheeks, the cold penetrating your lungs. I didn't realize until that moment how when I was drinking, I never would have been aware of those small details. I'm pretty sure I was numb to just about anything. But on this particular day they were so very clear.
Afterwards at the "celebration of life" we sat with friends, and recalled memories, and laughed, and hugged, and cried, and loved. So much love in that place. How deeply grateful I was to be in that moment. To be alive. To have been given a chance to start again. To not have settled for what I considered the "norm". To know that there was something better waiting for me. My life.
Later in the evening we celebrated our son Sam's birthday. It's always ironic how death holds hands with life. To see his sweet face lit by the candles on his cake. The excitement openning gifts. The taste of cake and ice cream in my mouth. As I crawled into bed Saturday night, my head was numb. My eyes heavy. I turned to my favorite poet; Mary Oliver. The book opened to the page which contained the above poem. How fitting it was, how comforting.
In this short span of life may all of us realize just how precious this life is. May we not get to the point of thinking there is no way out. May we feel cold on our cheeks, laughter in our belly's and love in our bones. That one single moment opened my eyes to just how awesome life can be. Regardless if its in a moment of happiness or an intense moment of sadness. It's still life. It's still worth being in the moment. As yourself, "What will you do with your one wild and precious life?" I know the answer for myself......I choose to be alive. Alive in all the moments that come my way, and I hope you choose the same. Blessings.....
Mary Oliver
Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?
What will you do with your one wild and precious life? This past weekend was the funeral of a friend. This particular family has suffered its share and then some of grief. Four years prior we attended the funeral of their teenage son. This time we said good-bye to the father. How very sad. This man who had a very big heart was gone at the young age of 44. Three children now without a father. The grief was and is very heavy.
Your heart breaks for those left to grieve, for questions you can't answer, for pain you can't take away. Hundreds came to the wake, to say their goodbyes, the church was full for the funeral. I'm always hoping that when someone passes they are able to see how much they were loved. Love and grief were every where.
At the cemetary, during the burial, I looked up. Into a cold January sky, as the clouds were parting, the sun and blue sky struggling to peek through, and the wind whipping the temps frigid. What a time to be alive. To feel the sting on your cheeks, the cold penetrating your lungs. I didn't realize until that moment how when I was drinking, I never would have been aware of those small details. I'm pretty sure I was numb to just about anything. But on this particular day they were so very clear.
Afterwards at the "celebration of life" we sat with friends, and recalled memories, and laughed, and hugged, and cried, and loved. So much love in that place. How deeply grateful I was to be in that moment. To be alive. To have been given a chance to start again. To not have settled for what I considered the "norm". To know that there was something better waiting for me. My life.
Later in the evening we celebrated our son Sam's birthday. It's always ironic how death holds hands with life. To see his sweet face lit by the candles on his cake. The excitement openning gifts. The taste of cake and ice cream in my mouth. As I crawled into bed Saturday night, my head was numb. My eyes heavy. I turned to my favorite poet; Mary Oliver. The book opened to the page which contained the above poem. How fitting it was, how comforting.
In this short span of life may all of us realize just how precious this life is. May we not get to the point of thinking there is no way out. May we feel cold on our cheeks, laughter in our belly's and love in our bones. That one single moment opened my eyes to just how awesome life can be. Regardless if its in a moment of happiness or an intense moment of sadness. It's still life. It's still worth being in the moment. As yourself, "What will you do with your one wild and precious life?" I know the answer for myself......I choose to be alive. Alive in all the moments that come my way, and I hope you choose the same. Blessings.....
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