The anxiety started a little over a week ago, when I found
out how soon Easter actually was this year. I was finally going to jump over
another big hurdle. I’ve been out of prison now for almost seven months and
haven’t had the opportunity to attend a gathering with the extended family, and
today was that day.
I don’t actually know
what it was that I was afraid of. I guess it’s the fact that I haven’t seen
them for a decade and I really don’t know that any of them have any idea about
where I’ve been. I visualize a hundred conversations all ending abruptly when
they ask what I’ve been doing, or why they haven’t seen me in so long. And of
course it’s not their fault that they’d be curious, we’re family. My grandparents
are wonderful but as far as I know, they didn’t really spread the word about my
trip to prison, or my years of alcoholism and drug addiction. And there’s the
shame factor for me that didn’t really want to go into any of that at Easter
(or ever). I mean who wants to hear such a sad story on Jesus’ Birthday? Or
whatever it is.
All the worry and apprehension was for naught. I was greeted
with hugs, handshakes, and warmth. And truth be told, I felt some connection
with a few of them that it turns out I really missed. And once again I was
sitting at the table with my family, laughing, conversing, and feeling all the uneasiness
dissipate. I didn’t recognize a few of them as they had all literally aged ten
years or so (well, they all probably aged the exact amount of time I just don’t
know how long my presence was absent) and were just kids the last time I had
seen them.
I think what I realized is that it doesn’t matter where I’ve
been for so long, only that I am here now. Not just in this particular
situation, but in everything. It took me a while to adapt to life outside the
walls, but now that I have been away for a while, I think I can let that place
(or places) go. That time of my life is over, and even though I do constantly
need to be working on staying in recovery, it’s not so much about not going
back, but being able to move forward. And that’s that.
I know I’m in the middle of a series of posts involving my
work experience, and that will continue. I just got home from the gathering and
wanted to get those words down while the event was still fresh in my mind. I
feel really good right now. As if a weight has been lifted off of me. But like
many of these weights, it was put there by me. I need to quit that. I’m a work
in progress.
A quick side note on progress: I’ve completed 93 of the
required 96 hours of community service hours imposed on me. Next week I will be
finishing out my last three hours at my usual spot, the Goodwill Outlet. I have
found and seen some very interesting things in my time there, and for my last
week, I will be purchasing the strangest, or possibly ugliest thing I see and
mailing it to a lucky reader. To be in the pool for this, please get your name
to me via comment or Facebook by Friday night (April Fool’s Day!) and if you
are selected by me at random, you will know soon enough, and I’ll get your address
then. MMMkay? I look forward to receiving another plethora of names. The
postcard sensational went well.
