Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Thanks


It’s that time of year again where we celebrate the theft of our land from Natives by some guys from Spain. Right? Or did the Brits steal it? I have no clue, I lost all of my historical knowledge years ago in the fray. Well, Google tells me that the "First Thanksgiving" was celebrated by the Pilgrims after their first harvest in the New World in October 1621. Fair enough. I suppose this explains why it is customary to share gratitude over a meal every year. When you have something to be grateful for, like a harvest, you celebrate it.

This year I have a lot to celebrate. My life is quite different than a year ago, and very opposite three years ago when I ate sliced turkey loaf and canned fruit off of a tray in prison. Here is what I am most thankful for this year:

1.    Nina. It’s been two months since my grandma suffered her stroke, and although there are some permanent side effects, she is able to do nearly everything she could do before it happened. She still has her personality, her humor, and her strength. I ponder why it took such a catastrophic event to get me closer to her life, but the point is that I have the capacity to be there, and I have shown up when I was needed.

 

2.    Continued sobriety.  Another holiday approaches and nobody will have to ask my mom where I am. I have sustained my commitments to my home-group, my sponsor, and my sponsees for a long time now. Working with others has been the foundation of my recovery which supports all of my other actions, and without action on my part, and like-minded people I can rely on for support, this daily reprieve from alcohol and drugs would not be possible.

 

3.    The Girls. Without my sobriety, I would never have landed in this relationship I am in now, and I can’t imagine my life any other way. This is a different life: there’s not a moment of quiet or privacy, and I don’t get to watch Netflix as often as I did when I was single, but such is life. I am happy every day I wake up next to her (even when she pushes snooze five times), and I am grateful that I have an opportunity to be a positive male role model for two adorable children, which is something I lived without (in my home) for the first 39 years of my life. Every day I am happy.

 

4.    Mom. I don’t see you as much as I did a year ago, but we are both in different places (figuratively and literally) in our lives. What I am grateful for is the relationship that we have formed since the day I got locked up in December of 2013. I remember getting a letter from you while I was sitting in that cold dark jail cell and feeling like I had somebody that cared for me for the first time in a while. That letter, although a little stern, got me through a lot, and even though I continued on the wrong path for a while after that, you were there through my entire stay in prison, and you have supported me every step of the way since my release. I love you.

 

5.    My job. I have benefits, I get paid more than I ever have, and I actually look forward to going to work. I’ve never been able to say that combination of words before.

 

And that’s the list. Of course I have a lot more to be thankful and grateful for, but this isn’t always the right place to say everything I want to, so I will leave it at that.

 

Every day, every week, I get farther and farther away from that criminal I used to be. This has not been the easy path: there was and is much work to be done, but the results are in and I’m loving my life as it is, so I need to continue doing what I have been because it’s working. Happy Thanksgiving everybody! Don’t forget to tell your loved ones not just that you love them, but why you love them.

 

 

Wednesday, November 8, 2017

She 6


It’s been two months since I wrote the last post in a series dedicated to my love life. Well, I decided it was time to add to the story, as so much has happened since my last publication on the subject. You may notice that the title of this post is She 6. Well, you get a gold star for detecting that there is no She 5. Actually, there is. I wrote it for her, and it will never be published.


Once when I was young, my mother was assaulted while I was in the next room by an angry, possibly drunken doctor. I remember feeling helpless: I was too young and too weak to do anything about the situation, to protect my mother. I felt that same way that night. I knew that you two were arguing, but I didn’t know how bad it was until you called me frantically, telling me to hold on. Then the phone hung up and I waited. You texted me that you were locked in a bathroom with the girls and that he was screaming at you through the door. He was punching things, and you thought he might be drunk. I tried calling you but you didn’t pick up. I felt helpless- I texted you to call the police.

The rest of that story is for her to write if she wants to, but it was pivotal because it opened up a whole new world for us. 

You found a lot of courage that night and you grew as a woman and a mother. It was the first step of many that set you free.


Two months ago we started growing even closer because it was possible without the toxic thing around. We planned a date with your girls because I needed to meet them if we were going to be able to see each other more often. We went mini-golfing which was interesting for me because I hadn’t been around a 2-year-old for a very long time and they don’t much like paying attention of following rules. The 6-year-old and I got along just fine and I let her beat me at all 18 holes.

Since that first meeting, I have spent more and more of my time in their lives, and in the past five weeks, I have really immersed myself in a life with children, spending most of my days with them (and She.) My life now consists of everything sticky, screaming, poop, pink, cartoons, half-eaten diapers (Willie comes with me too, and sometimes we forget to put up the gate), No!, Mine!, onesies, pee, trolls, egg-animal things,etc. I don’t know, I love it. Everything is always chaos when they are awake. Everything, off of every shelf, every time. 

It’s a whole new level of responsibility for me, too. I’m not what anybody would refer to as a “clean person,” and kids leave a mess everywhere they go. She has been used to cleaning up after kids for six years, and me just over a month. I have some catching up to do. I like to think I contribute a lot to the relationship, but I think I could add more. I already do a fair amount of cooking, and I generally do my own dishes, but I don’t do them to her standards and I can see that she is maybe a little bit neuro when it comes to cleaning. It’s okay; these are the things you find out about another person when you get close. Shit, I used to smoke crack, so I don’t judge other’s behaviors and habits.

Nearly all of the time we are in harmony: We laugh, we kiss, and we love. No relationship will ever be perfect. As long as we address issues as they arise and don’t let anything build up, we should be fine. This is a big change for both of us, and it may take a little time to work out all of the kinks and details, and while we are doing that, we can fall in love every day we wake up next to each other.

It’s the middle of the night. I can’t sleep. I look on you and see the woman I love and care for. I see a woman, a mother, and my friend. I smile. I wrap my arm around you to keep you safe. I can protect you now. The world is right, goodnight.

And Counting

I remember vividly waking up at 5:19am, one minute precisely before the lights would come on; the indication that it was time to stand a...