One year later

Flashback to one year ago...

If someone would've predicted what my life was going to be like today, describing the current scenario, I probably would've told them they were crazy. After almost eight years of struggles, I really wouldn't have been able to imagine something like they were describing. But, of course, I would've gladly said OK to it.

Amazingly, one year later that imaginary scenario is indeed here, and I am reveling in it one day at a time. Living in the moment. Grateful for every day, hour, minute, and second.

I'm not sure what I did to deserve such a turnaround, but I appreciate my higher power deeming me worthy of it. And it's not just me. My entire family is in such a better place today than they were at this time in 2012. It's like night and day, really.

As I've said before, I'm very aware that things in life can turn on a dime. And if they do, I will deal with that. But right now I am at total peace. It's a feeling I haven't felt in years, and a feeling I wasn't quite sure I would ever feel again. Stupid me.

With Christmas only days away, I can't help but think about how much emphasis is put on material things. People need to have the best this and the best that, and Christmas lists are full of fancy things that cost a lot of money. Well, I don't have a lot of money and "things" have become less and less important to me. I guess that's why I have an old-fashioned "dinosaur" lo-def TV. And an 11-year-old car that's falling apart (but still runs great). And, of course, no cell phone (insert laugh track here).

For the past several years, when Christmas time rolled around I would wish and hope and pray for one thing, and one thing only. I wasn't expecting to get it, but I kept on wishing and hoping and praying. It couldn't hurt, I thought. And whaddya know? This year I got it.

I should say that I am so incredibly proud of my boys. They've both come so far this year and are in such good places right now. I am incredibly proud of my lovely wife, too. A lot of couples who have gone through what we've gone through over the last several years may have ended up going their separate ways. But my wife is my rock. She's the glue that has held this family together through all of its difficulties. Without her, who knows where my boys and I would be.

I also have to say that I'm proud of myself. For forgiving my father after 40+ years of resentment. For learning to let go. For finally setting boundaries and sticking to them. And for learning to live in the moment more. All of these things are things I couldn't have imagined doing a year ago.

I have no Christmas list this year, because I have already received the ultimate gift. One that has no monetary value, but one I will cherish and enjoy while I can...one moment at a time.

As 2012 winds down and 2013 comes knocking on my door, I will continue to go forward, be brave, and keep the faith.

Happy holidays to you and yours.

There are some things that I believe
Like if you've got nothing you've still got your family
And when you are no one you're still the king...
--Kathleen Edwards, from her song "Good Things"

Happy birthday, son

Twenty-three years ago to the moment, my wife and I were at the hospital awaiting the birth of our first child. We went to the hospital very early in the morning, after calling my oldest sister to tell her that it appeared our first child was going to be on her birthday, which also happens to be her oldest son's birthday. Yes, 12/12 has some meaning in my family.

While at the hospital, I remember wondering what the hell was happening. I was 28-years-old, but still felt like a kid. And here I was about to become a father. I was equal parts excited and scared. Probably no different than any other rookie parent-to-be. A true emotional roller coaster.

We spent all day and much of the night waiting, waiting, and waiting some more. And wondering: When was this little human being going to decide it was ready? Was it going to be a boy or a girl? What would it look like? Would it be healthy?

Finally, at 9:57pm, our questions were answered and my wife and I became the parents of a beautiful 7-pound, 12-ounce baby boy. It was one of the happiest moments of my life and a night I will never forget. A few hours after the birth, I went home feeling like the luckiest man on the planet. Because I was the luckiest man on the planet.

We named our son after my mom's father and my wife's father. When we took him home to our tiny little house with the freshly prepared nursery I remember how strange it felt. Two of us went to the hospital...and three of us came home. Life as my wife and I knew it would never be the same.

Flash forward 23 years to today: 12/12/12. It's definitely a magical date from a numerical standpoint because it's the last repetitive date most people on Earth will ever see. But it's also a magical day for some other reasons.

My son is five-and-a-half months clean and is in the best emotional place he's been in about eight years. For this I am incredibly grateful. He also got his first real job the other day and will be working 35 hours a week and earning his own--as he referred to it on Facebook--"bank" (bank = money). This is such a huge milestone for him. I believe this will have an immeasurable positive effect on his confidence and his life in general. Definitely another thing I am grateful for.

Christmas is less than two weeks away and these days our society places a lot of emphasis on material things when it comes to this holiday. In the past, there have indeed been material things that I've wanted for Christmas. Maybe only one or two things for past several years, and nothing really major. But this year I have no Christmas list because there are no material things I want.

This Christmas is all about the state of my family. For the first time in eight years, there is some sense of normalcy surrounding my family. People are doing well. Some heavy burdens--not all having to do with my son--have been lifted. And I feel a sense of peace I haven't felt in a long, long time.

I know there are no guarantees in life, so I realize that things could change in an instant. But I have come a long way this year, too, and have learned to live in the moment and truly appreciate every good day. And today is a good day.

Happy birthday, son. I am so incredibly proud of you and love you with all my heart. Here's hoping your 24th year will be your best ever.

"Just when you think it can't get any worse, it can. And just when you think it can't get any better, it can." --Nicholas Sparks

12/12/89

Thanksgiving recap

It's two days after Thanksgiving and this is the first opportunity I've had in a while to actually sit down and write a blog post.

This Thanksgiving was so much different from last year's. In 2011, my son was living in a sober living house in Palm Springs and was greatly missed at our dinner table. This year, though, was a different story.

My son is now about 4.5 months clean, which is the most clean time he's had since he was 15 (he's almost 23 now). There are not enough words for me to express how proud I am of him. And how thankful I am that he seems to have found the right path.

On the day before Thanksgiving, my son was over visiting--his little brother is home from school this week on break--and invited my wife and me to an early-bird "Gratitude Meeting" Thanksgiving morning. We gladly accepted, as did my Mom, who was also invited.

So on Thanksgiving Day, my wife and I got up at the crack of dawn; but not to start the big day's meal preparation. Instead we drove to a church just a few blocks from our house and joined a couple hundred other people for a beautiful 7:00am Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. There were members of AA there along with many family members and friends who came to show support and gratitude. It was such an incredible turnout.

After the standard AA meeting opening remarks and readings, a microphone was passed around the room and everyone in the room spoke briefly about what they were grateful for. It really was quite moving. There was so much love and hope and courage...and, yes, gratitude in that room.

When the meeting was over, we dropped our son off at his sober living house and came home to get the Turkey Day meal started. I cooked my butt off! But when 5:30 rolled around and my family started arriving, things were all ready to go.

My mom, brother, and youngest sister joined us for dinner. Unfortunately, my Dad wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it over. But we sent a nice care package of food home for him. My oldest sister, who lives in New York, couldn't make it either. (I'm hoping we can figure out a way to all be together at Christmas time.)

We had a great meal and a great time just sitting around and talking. I have to say it was one of the most relaxing, stress-free Thanksgivings I can remember. Having both of my boys in a good place is most definitely the biggest reason for that. There was a sense of normalcy to the day and evening. I have to admit, I had kind of forgotten what that was like. 

The highlight of the whole holiday, though, was reading my son's status update on Facebook that evening:

"So grateful for the support of my family and friends and the opportunities I am no longer denying myself today. Happy Thanksgiving."

I think those words--which brought tears to my eyes when I read them--show what a long way my son has come.

It was indeed a happy Thanksgiving. I hope it was for all of you as well.

"Gratitude begins in our hearts and then dovetails into behavior. It almost always makes you willing to be of service, which is where the joy resides. It means that you are willing to stop being such a jerk. When you are aware of all that has been given to you, in your lifetime and the past few days, it is hard not to be humbled, and pleased to give back." --Anne Lamott (from her book Help, Thanks, Wow: The Three Essential Prayers)

Wake the f*ck up

This is probably more of a rant than a blog post. But I need to get it off my chest. (Be forewarned: I'm tired and cranky from being up too late watching election coverage.)

It's time for people to wake the f*ck up and start realizing that the vast majority of addicts are not addicts because they WANT to be. Contrary to popular belief, people don't wake up one day and decide, "Hey, I'm gonna be a drug addict! That sounds like fun!" Or, "It would be sooo cool to be an alcoholic! I'm going for it!"

It's a disease, people. And we need to work incredibly hard at breaking down the stigma associated with the disease and start helping those people who need it. We also have to educate young people earlier on in life about drugs and addiction. I wish schools would cover this subject way sooner than they do now. (If they even do now.) I'm a firm believer in prevention. We teach kids "Don't go with strangers" almost as soon as they're out of the womb. But something that can be just as dangerous sits on the back burner and, in my opinion, never gets the attention it truly needs in schools.

Granted, it's been a while since I've had a kid in elementary school--yes, I'm old--but I don't recall any drug/addiction education being taught to my kids while they were there. Well, here's a newsflash, people: By the time kids get to middle school, it might be too late. More and more kids are experimenting with drugs and alcohol earlier on in life and there are drug problems in schools everywhere in this country. And it's not just the high schools or inner city schools. I live in a rather affluent community and my son used to tell me that he could buy any drug he wanted inside his high school.

Maybe schools don't want to put a whole lot of emphasis on drug/addiction education because they think it's a taboo subject. Screw that. If you try to sweep it under the rug, you're just contributing to the problem. We need to BREAK THE STIGMA. We need to educate kids before they start experimenting and make a wrong choice that leads them down a hellish road I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy.

Wake the f*ck up, America. Start teaching kids about the dangers of drugs and alcohol in elementary school. Ramp up that teaching in middle school. And make a more explicit/graphic class on the dangers of drugs and alcohol mandatory for all high school freshmen. Too many kids and parents walk around with the "It can't happen to me" attitude. I'm here to tell you: It can happen to you.

Parents have a responsibility to educate their kids and set examples for them, too. So many moms and dads out there throw cocktail parties, or come home from work and have a couple of drinks before dinner, just to wind down. All they're really doing is glorifying alcohol in front of their kids. They leave alcohol and prescription drugs lying around the house and think nothing of it. Then they wonder what the hell happened when their child ends up having issues with alcohol and drugs. Again: Wake the f*ck up.

I wear a new bracelet proudly. It's a white silicone bracelet similar to the yellow "LIVESTRONG" cancer awareness bracelets so many people wore and still wear today. My new bracelet says "LIVESOBER." I bought a bunch of these bracelets from the store at an online site called "Sober Is Sexy." Yesterday I offered up bracelets to both of my boys. They both accepted them and are now wearing them, too. I think that's totally badass.

You know what's even cooler? When I posted on Facebook about my kids wearing the "LIVESOBER" bracelets, I got friends sending me messages asking me where they could get them. Imagine that. People wanting to join me and my boys in making a statement and spreading the word. I love it. I wish more people--especially young people--understood that it is possible to lead a normal, enjoyable life while being totally sober.

Not that it matters, but this post was inspired by a couple of comments posted on a newspaper story online...in the sports section of all places. The story was about free agent baseball slugger Josh Hamilton--who has a history of struggles with drugs and alcohol--possibly signing with my hometown Detroit Tigers. After reading the story, I read some of the comments people had left about the story. Of course, there were people bashing him because of his addiction. I'm just so tired of ignorant people bad-mouthing addicts; especially those in recovery. Until you've walked a mile in an addict's shoes, how 'bout keeping your mouths shut?

There I'm done. I'm sorry for ranting (not really). And I'm sorry for using the (edited) "F word" (sort of). This is just a subject that I'm passionate about. I wish more people were. Especially our educators.

P.S. My son got his 4-month chip the other day. I'm so incredibly proud of him. One day at a time. They all add up.

Belated love is still...love

If you're a regular reader of this blog, you may recall my post from August 2nd of this year called "Better late than never." It's the one where I provided details about my having grown up the child of an alcoholic father. And how I felt like part of my childhood was stolen from me because of my dad's alcoholism. It's also the post where I declared to the world that the 40-plus years of resentment and hatred I felt towards my dad suddenly vanished in a sort of "God moment."

Getting over those feelings was huge for me. As I stated in that post, I never thought it would happen. But it did. And almost three months later, I am still at peace with myself. The anger I carried around for so long doesn't live inside me anymore. In fact--and this is hard for me to admit--love is starting to replace it.

My dad is still having health issues. My mother is doing her best to care for him, but it's getting more and more difficult for her. In fact, about 10 days ago I got an early morning call from my mom telling me that my dad had fallen in his bedroom and couldn't get up. At age 81, my mom couldn't possibly lift my dad up. So I got in my car and rushed over to their apartment to help. (Luckily I live in the same city, only about a mile away.)

When I got to the apartment, I lifted my dad back up to his feet and helped him get into his living room chair. He was very grateful and thanked me over and over again. He also said he didn't know what he'd do without me. And there were a few "I love you"s, too.

I got a strange feeling when I heard my dad tell me he loved me that day. I felt very different than I had any other time I'd heard him say, "I love you." It was like he actually meant it. And I felt that. I hugged my dad, gave him a kiss, and said, "I love you, too." That felt different, too. Because in my heart I felt like I actually meant it.

Flash forward to this past Saturday at 6:00am. My wife and I were both sleeping when the phone ringing startled us and woke us up. I immediately uttered the words, "This can't be good"--which, by the way, is a very common thought for the parent of an addict whenever the phone rings at a strange hour. Fortunately, this call had nothing to do with my son. But unfortunately, it was my mom calling to tell me she needed my help again. My dad had fallen again, this time in the bathroom. My wife and I both got up and got dressed, and we raced over to my parents' place.

When we got there, I jumped out of the car to go help while my wife proceeded to find a parking spot. I arrived to find my dad lying on the bathroom floor, asleep. After waking him up, I lifted him back to his feet, waited for him to wash up and put a robe on, and helped him into his chair.

Once again, my dad was incredibly appreciative. He was almost in tears while he was thanking me and telling me he knows he can always count on me and my wife. And, of course, he told me he loved me again. And I felt it again. And I said, "I love you" to him again. And this time I knew I meant it. Forty-something years later and the love between a son and his father was being reborn.

During the day that day, I cooked up a wonderful chicken and sweet potato dish and my wife and I took the food over to my parents' that evening and ate dinner with them. When I walked in the door, my dad looked at me and said, "My savior!" He and my mom really enjoyed the food; and the company. When my wife and I left I gave my dad a big hug and told him I loved him. Because I think I really do.

Watching my dad get old is incredibly difficult for me. I fear getting old myself, so seeing him struggle and lose his independence is tough. But it would've been even tougher if I hadn't let go of the past. I'm so very thankful I was able to move on.

While driving home that night, I told my wife how much I enjoyed hearing my dad say positive things about me. And how much I liked hearing him say, "I love you."

"I feel like it's real now," I told her. Because I think it is.

I love you, dad.

"Forgiveness is giving up all hope of having had a better past." --Anne Lamott

"We are heroes to each other"

I shared my story with the wonderful website Heroes in Recovery. Today it went live. You can read it at the link below.

Maybe my story can help some other parents of addicts get through their tough times. Or help break the stigma. Or make a difference in some other way. In any case, I was happy to share.

Like the website says on its home page:

"We all need hope. We all need inspiration. Know that you are not alone, not the only one who experiences a loss, hurt and heartache. We are heroes to each other. Be inspired. Be encouraged."

Here is my story...

http://www.heroesinrecovery.com/stories/dean-d-s-story/

Thank you, Heroes in Recovery!

Got this great t-shirt in the mail today from the Heroes in Recovery people. I will wear it proudly.

BREAK THE STIGMA

Damn straight.