Happy birthday, Elizabeth

Today is my mother's birthday. I can't help but think of her with a mixture of happiness and sadness. She was certainly a woman of many contradictions.

She was my best friend when I was a child. We always had a number of interesting things to do. Every summer there would be a project for me to work on that involved biology.  She believed that learning could be fun, and she made it so.  I would hatch out insects and study the life stages. I would grow tadpoles into frogs. I had my own microscope and would make slides from my blood, onion skin, algae, etc. We went into the woods and along ponds and streams to collect and study various things.  I knew all the moths and butterflies in the area.  This was what she taught me.

She was a Latin and English teacher who loved science. She also loved history and wrote a book on history of our county. She graduated from college and took graduate courses, all things that women of her generation hardly ever did. She was an elected official and was in all sorts of clubs. My mother was one of the most interesting people that I ever met. She was also one of the saddest.

From an early age, I can remember my mother having a very closed view of our little world. She was a proper lady when she needed to be and could be very haughty and judgmental if she was put on the defensive. She was always in denial about our family.  Her sister was a recluse.  Her father suffered from depression.  My father drank heavily at times.  But she refused to see any of this.

Instead, she told me many times to "remember who you are and where you came from", referring to our family tree.  This was very confusing to me since I didn't think that we lived any better than anyone else or that we were any better than others. I liked just about everybody and to this day have an affinity for the people who aren't loved because they aren't good looking or rich or powerful. I am a friend to the underdog, I guess.

Anyway, my mother always wanted me to be the best. I had to have the best grades and succeed academically. She didn't have to push me much because it was what I wanted also.  All of this fed right into being affected by alcoholism because perfectionism in the midst of pain is how I coped.  I know that she was proud of my accomplishments though.

Mother could be very vain and put on great airs. In later life, those kinds of things could be excused, but they still bothered me. She suffered from severe depression from age 70 on. I made sure that she got treated.  My father didn't know what to do.  I can remember him crying because he could not make her well, and he didn't understand what was wrong with her.

She was treated with all kinds of drugs, but nothing seemed to work.  So after bringing her from Virginia to SC, she was put in the psychiatric institute where she began a series of shock treatments (ECT).  She had hundreds of ECT's over the course of her depression. She was hospitalized many times, and each time she was admitted, she would come out more mentally fragile than before. Anything could trigger a major depression such as getting a cold or not knowing how to work a microwave. But, when she wasn't depressed, she could have such  fun. Everything seemed to be a treat for her. It was as if life was a big candy store.

In her last years, she lived in a nursing center where she was the "social director". She always dressed beautifully and had a lot of friends among staff, visitors, and residents.  She became more beautiful with age.  If she approved of you, she could be charming. If she didn't, well, you never knew whether she would be cold or just neutral. I think that her depression had a lot to do with her attitude. Most times when I would visit her or bring her home, she would be busily writing or reading. She loved to make inventories of all the antiques and delighted in genealogy. I guess that the inventory I made on myself is probably one that she never thought about.

Mother died peacefully at age 95 in 2005. I know that she was an exceptionally bright woman who had inherited a terrible illness.  I don't know that she ever acknowledged how much my father drank.  I think that she denied so many things rather than face reality.

Depression robbed her of a lot because the ECT treatments wipe out short term memory. I'm just glad that her last years were spent being cared for well and being around those who loved her. Happy birthday Elizabeth. I still love and miss you.

Beautiful Saturday

It has been a beautiful day here. And this was just the tonic I needed. I caught up on my sleep finally, went for a walk on the beach, had friends come onboard, and had a good dinner.

We like to cook Thai and Chinese food. So tonight we fixed crispy fried eggplant and Hunan tofu. Delicious! We eat two meals a day with a light snack in the afternoon. It is all we need. I'm glad that both of us are on the same page with food--no salt, no meat except seafood, almost no processed food, lots of vegetables. We had arguments for years about food. I was the no salt, no carbs, no meat person and my wife was the meat, salt and pasta person. After her heart attack, things drastically changed in terms of her eating habits. No more arguments about food or booze. What a nice change that is!

Thanks for your kind thoughts and comments. I don't usually carry around so much melancholy. At least, today is happy and peaceful. I don't feel the weight of the world on me (thanks Mark for that description) now. Strange how all that responsibility and worry makes an appearance at times. Lack of sleep, too much analysis, projecting outcomes, self-pity--these are my pitfalls.

Now it's time to sit on deck and listen to the waves and the wind in the rigging. These are sounds that soothe my soul. Another day is just about done , and it was a beautiful one.

Friday evening

It's Friday, and we are already out at the anchorage. The garden and flower beds are watered. The grass is cut. The parents are maintaining and being looked after. So the things holding us to the land have been taken care of.

I still feel as if something is gnawing at me, not letting me feel fully at peace. I have a sense of foreboding, as if something is going to happen. I listen to these intuitive feelings because they have proven to be true in the past. I realize that it's foolish to project so I turn my thoughts to fixing dinner together, reading a book, commenting on blogs, walking on the beach.

I don't want to tell my wife that part of what worries me is her. I nearly lost her to a heart attack last year. I honestly cannot imagine my life without her. And I know that she seems happy but the situation with her parents has been a strain over the last 8 months. I want her to feel carefree but realize that I can't make that happen. Her sponsor is dying, and she hasn't been to see her in a couple of months. I don't think that she wants to see the deterioration in body and spirit. I hate seeing her worry, so I do enough for both of us which is not a good solution.

One of the things that I have heard in Al-Anon for years is that by staying busy, I get better. But as in everything, there is a need for balance. Being frantically busy is not what I want to do. I did that for many years, running from my problems by juggling so many things. So this weekend, I will do the usual things that bring me comfort. And that includes getting more rest.

Hope that you are having a peaceful Friday.

Low down side

I feel as if I am behind in everything and have little enthusiasm to get much done. I suppose this is my low down side coming out.

I am going through most normal activities this week, but realize that I am dead tired from the trip south.  It must be catching up with me now.  I haven't had much down time since I got back, so I took today as an opportunity to have a nap in the afternoon.  I don't feel much better, but at least I know that I was home and got some rest.

I have been to some incredible meetings over the last few days.  Things that I heard were a reminder of how lives that have been all but ruined can be turned around.  I wonder then why I am feeling this emptiness right now.  One of the things that I do know is that tonight I will do those things that make me feel better: have a good dinner, read, meditate, and get more sleep.  Tomorrow is a chance to start afresh.

My low down side doesn't come out much.  And it passes just as quickly as it comes.  It is nothing to fear, I know.  And I think about this:

I saw grief drinking a cup of sorrow and called out, 'It tastes sweet, does it not?' 'You've caught me,' grief answered, 'and you've ruined my business. How can I sell sorrow, when you know it's a blessing? ~Rumi

This being human is a guest house

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing,

and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

~ Rumi

Birthday night

Tonight,  there were two birthday celebrations at my home group.  One was for a lady with a year, and the other celebrated 19 years. I think that this was a particularly tender meeting.  All of us had a lot to share about life and who we have tried to control and how we have failed in expectations of others. 

The following was a poem shared in one of the cards tonight.  It sums up what it sometimes feels like to live this life and to find a solution that helps to get through it, move through it, and be okay.  

There is no controlling life.

Try corralling a lightning bolt,

containing a tornado. Dam a

stream and it will create a new

channel. Resist, and the tide

will sweep you off your feet.

Allow, and grace will carry

you to higher ground. The only

safety lies in letting it all in –

the wild and the weak; fear,

fantasies, failures and success.

When loss rips off the doors of

the heart, or sadness veils your

vision with despair, practice

becomes simply bearing the truth.

In the choice to let go of your

known way of being, the whole

world is revealed to your new eyes.

Back home

I am back at home port. It was a wet ride back, with the worse part being the big seas once I got into the harbor. It feels good to be stopped once again, after the nine hour trip home.

The speakers yesterday were awesome. The morning Al-Anon speaker had a daughter affected by alcoholism. It was a moving story of how she learned to not enable and set clear boundaries with her daughter. It's clear that some Al-Anon's cannot stay away from alcoholics because this lady married four of them. The only non-alcoholic she married was too boring so she divorced him too!

Her daughter was the afternoon speaker. It was interesting to hear the mother/daughter story. Both are close and grateful for the recovery they found.

The evening speaker was Danny B. from Spring, TX. I imagine that Pam and Dave know of him. He had quite a story about being in mental institutions, prisons, gangs, and Mexican jails. He shared about turning himself in for robbing a bank as an amends. But he was set free because the police didn't believe the real criminal would turn himself in. I still can't figure out whether he really robbed the bank!

I don't think there was a dry eye in the room when he shared about making an amends to his father who was dying. I know that I was thinking about my own father and wishing that I had the opportunity to tell him how much I loved him before he died. It is one of my great regrets.

But all is okay right now. I had a great time, got to know a great bunch of alcoholics, made some new friends, and learned more lessons in my recovery.

Know when to hold 'em

I had planned to come back from the speaker meeting last night and write a blog post. Instead, I ended up playing poker for nickels and dimes with a group of AA's who have been playing together for 15 years. I haven't played before but discovered that I apparently have a knack for the game, finishing with $7 more than I started with and having a streak of wins among seasoned and cut throat pros. These alcoholics take playing seriously! I was invited back for another round tonight and asked, "Are you sure you haven't played before?".

The speaker was good--humorous, yet poignant. Here were some things he said that stuck with me:

• an active alcoholic can go nowhere, do nothing and be okay with that
• we don't know much about the newcomer when they first arrive other than it hasn't been a very good year
• if you think that sobriety will come from just going to meetings, then you are trying to get well in a room full of sick people
• desperation is the propellant that takes a person through the steps. But desperation can wane over time, so delay with the steps can be risky.
• the self-pity of the past and worries about the future can rob a person of how to be in the present
• the bondage of self is self-created slavery
• the Judas step is the one that will betray you because you denied it was there
• the time to be happy is now, the place to be happy is here, and the way to be happy is to help others.

I am off to head to the Al-Anon speaker meeting and a full day of mini-meetings. My pockets are filled with enough change that I can pay for the picnic lunch! And that song about the Gambler keeps going through my head.

Rain and then sun

It rained most of the night. I put the screens in the companionway entrance to keep the mosquitoes out. The salt marsh mosquitoes here are voracious. I had a dreamless sleep, awakening to the rain pelting on the hatches of the boat.

This morning, I sat on deck to have coffee and watch the rain come down. It is peaceful and quiet at this marina--no loud music, no parties , no drunks wandering the docks. Nothing like what must be going on back at home where more than 300 boats have come in for Race Week.

When the rain stopped and the skies cleared, I walked a little over a mile to where the roundup will be. The walk along the bike bath was scenic as it wound through maritime forest. Oak trees, palmettos, cedars and myrtle bushes lined the path. In one area, there were about twenty bird houses hanging from trees and a face made of shells and plant materials was on another tree. Island eclectic that is so neat.

I registered at the meeting place, picked up my packet, and signed the two Big Books that will be given away to the person with the most time sober and the person with the least. The sobriety countdown never ceases to bring tears to my eyes.

Tonight is the first speaker followed by a late night mini-meeting. I am looking forward to attending everything through Saturday evening. This is my favorite recovery conference because it is so low-key. But it has good circuit speakers, friendly attendees, a nice cookout, and is close enough for me to walk from the boat to the meeting.

I hope that you are having a good day. Mine has been fine in the truest sense of the word.

Anchored for the night

The boat is anchored for the night. The winds were light and variable this morning. In the afternoon, the breeze picked up which was nice.

I am in the ACE Basin, which has unspoiled views of maritime forests and is mostly protected by conservation easements. I have wound my way through a series of creeks, cuts and rivers to get to this anchorage for the night. The names of these places are a reminder of Native American tribes in the area: Dawho, Ashepoo, Combahee, and Edisto.

A few other boats were motorsailing, and some were just motoring, raising a hand to wave as we passed by each other. We smile and nod at each other, knowing that we are lucky to be on our respective excursions.

I talked to C. several times today. All is well there. I told her I fixed fish, salad, and corn on the cob for dinner. It tasted so good. Now, I'm sitting on deck watching the sun go down. Soon, it will be time for sleep.

I will head to the marina tomorrow. I may anchor out and row to shore. Rain is in the forecast. But today is spectacularly beautiful.

Leaving tomorrow

I am set to leave at 6 AM tomorrow morning.  I've got the groceries loaded, water tanks filled, and am looking forward to heading south.  I will be back in a week.

In the meantime, I'll be taking photos, checking up on blogs when I can, and going to meetings at the roundup.  And maybe, I'll get to spend some time on the beach too.

Not much else is going on.  Life is going smoothly. The garden is doing well, the parents are doing okay, and my wife is happy.  I am grateful for a lot of things.

Hope that you have a good week.

Land lubber

It has been a blustery, chilly day here. I decided to stay at the marina this weekend to get some work done on the engine and running rigging before casting off next week for a trip down the coast.

I'll be gone for about a week and hope that my travels will enable me to make a roundup in the nearby town where the boat will be docked. It's race week at the marina here which is a wild and crazy time. I've found it best to get the boat out of here to avoid being hit by other boats that aren't familiar with the big tides or swift currents that we have.

I have been to the roundup before and there are generally good speakers for both AA and Al-Anon. It looks like there will be about a two mile bike ride from the boat to the meeting location. I am looking forward to staying on the boat and biking back and forth. It should be a good time.

I talked to a couple last night who sold every thing they owned to cruise for a year. They went up to Canada, through locks and along rivers to reach the Mississippi and get to the Gulf of Mexico. From there, they went around Florida and back to Maryland. They had some interesting and trying times. But they like the nomadic life style. I have to say that I like having a land-based home to go back to.

The marina life is like a community where you like some of the neighbors and some that you don't. A lot of drinking goes on. The police were down here twice last night for a domestic violence call on the boat next to Sojourner. The woman was screaming at her husband earlier in the evening. She has done the screaming before but this time, the police showed up. He called them to say that she had assaulted him.

Today, he has red scratches on his face. I asked if he was okay and he said, "Yes, we're okay." I don't know what the problem is but am glad that the police came. We spend little time at the marina but realize that a lot more probably goes on when we aren't here.

I got the work done that I needed to do for today. Tomorrow, I will continue the preparation. Hopefully, tonight will be low key and quiet. Tomorrow evening, I'll be back home to the solitude of home. I don't mind being a part-time land lubber at all.

Passing it along

The lunch with my former staff yesterday was delightful.  We talked about old times, new times, and even talked some science.  I find it humorous that they are still caught up in the drama of the work place--who was let go, who is getting married, who has been promoted, etc.

But much of the focus was on budget cuts and what that was doing to various projects and filling of positions. Basically, the lab's budget is the same this year as it was when the place was started back in the early 1970's.  Most of the staff are funded on grants now, but even some of those that have been around for a long time are in jeopardy.  Yet, they were amazingly upbeat and enthusiastic about what they do.  One lady looked at me and said, "You taught me how to be the best at what I did. And when we thought that we couldn't add any more work, you would encourage us to dig deeper and do more."

Well, yes, I guess that is what I did.  I told them that they were the best and meant it.  And they would tell me when I would go off to a national meeting to not get any more ideas about interesting projects.  But then, I would come back and tell them about something I thought we needed to work on, so we would brainstorm, write a proposal and submit it.  Now, it's harder and harder to get funding.  But all of them are still employed and doing good work.

I was told by one staff member that I taught him to "grow up, work hard, and strive for excellence".  He was the fellow that I took aside one day when he got on the research vessel half-looped.  I told him to drink coffee, sober up, and grow up because he had a 24 hour shift to pull with me, and I needed him.  He is now a computer programmer pulling down six figures, married, and has a little girl who he adores.

The Al-Anon program tells me to practice the principles (steps) in all my affairs.  Maybe I was doing some of that already before I got into program.  It seems that willingness, fairness, honesty, and caring can be instilled within each of us early in life.  It takes awareness to be able to make the best use of these characteristics and maintain them through time, and hopefully pass some of them on to others.

After I left, I still think back

It's a delightfully cool spring day here.  I'm going to meet up with some of my former staff for lunch.  We get together ever so often to talk about the good ole days and find out what's new with each other.  I suspect that they will have a lot to tell me about what is going on at the laboratory.  I haven't been back there in quite a few months.

I have heard from a few people that the halls are nearly deserted, staffing numbers are down, number of grants are down, and more people have retired or are thinking about it.  It was a bustling, exciting place when I started working there. And that excitement continued until about the last 10 years of my employment.  Gradually, the politics and the bureaucracy ate away at many of us. I'm glad that I left when I did because I could tell that my enthusiasm had waned. It was time to leave.

My reservation about going back is that I feel I no longer belonged.  I actually felt like that the last couple of months while I was there.  Everything was moving around me in terms of planning and the future, but my future was to leave.  It was an awkward feeling, almost like I had left already but was physically still present.  My sponsor pointed out that perhaps the people needed to process in their own way that I was going and the best way to do that was to look forward.  Maybe.

But one of the things that I did not previously write about here was a note that was left under my door.  I opened my office one morning a few weeks after I had retired.  I was still going in to work on some last things that I wanted to wrap up.  I had a series of lectures to give and some other writing to do. The plain piece of paper was folded over.  I thought perhaps it was a note from a well-wisher.  But when I opened it,  there was a copy of one of my blog posts and a note with some hateful words typed on it.  I guess that I have blocked those words because I can't remember them exactly.

From that moment on, I no longer wanted to go back there.  I don't know who put the note there.   It doesn't really matter.  What matters is that I felt angry, fearful, sad, distressed--all tumbling together.  Someone knew about my blog and decided to write something nasty to me.

I did not give any thought to abandoning the blog, but I knew that going back into work in my old office was not an option.  I told the Director that any work that I would do, I would do from home.  I haven't regretted that.  I am okay with it all today.  My distance from work there is okay.  I do miss the people I worked with.  And today, I'll get a chance to tell them that again.

I'm glad that I finally wrote this blog post.  It has cleared up some hidden stuff within.  Thanks for reading.  

No Sunday blues on a Monday night

We got back to the marina around noon today.  I washed up the boat, went to a diesel place to get a new fuel pump, and came home to take a 2 hour nap. It doesn't seem like a Monday at all.  I used to get those Sunday evening blues when I knew that Monday was coming.

I wanted the weekend to continue because it was the time that I could get things done that I really enjoyed.  Now, when I look back on my working days, I wonder at how short the time was between Friday evening and Sunday night.  It doesn't seem like enough time to recharge before going back to work.  I'm often amazed at all the multi-tasking I did when I was still working full time.  And I'm still multi-tasking, heaping more things to do on my plate, but I have to say that I am greatly enjoying just about everything that I do now.  

One of the new projects that I am thinking about doing is to photograph those who are down and out in this town.  I was inspired to read what Chris Arnade did in his photo documentation of the Faces of Addiction.  I have talked to a fellow I know who works at the city homeless shelter and am going to write a proposal to do a project in which I photograph those who will agree and write about their story.  I'm not sure where this will be going other than to let the photos and their words tell their own story.  Perhaps it will be possible to do an exhibit at some point.  Right now, this is an idea that I feel compelled to explore.

I have also wanted to document the people of the Lowcountry Sea Islands and tell a bit of their story.  I see this as a vanishing culture in the South.  Development of the islands is happening at a rapid rate, so much so that many of the old ways will likely die out.  Once again, theirs is a story worth telling through photos and words.

In the midst of these ideas, comes an old nemesis:  Am I good enough to do this work?  I'm not professionally trained, but I know that I have a good eye. But is that enough?  There are so many talented photographers here.  Yet, I am going to forge ahead and see what comes of this idea.  I may not be the best, but I have a desire and determination.
 

Easter Weekend

It has been a beautiful Easter weekend. On Friday, we took the parents for lunch. They said it was a nice time. It's hard to tell because my mother-in-law thinks that Pop is her brother and that I am her husband. Pop is quiet and not very conversational. But there were cards and flowers and good food.

Yesterday, we met up with a number of other boats for the day. It was nice to hang out with some fellow sailors and have a few hours to spend having good food on the host boat.

Today is Easter, and we are anchored in an inlet near the beach of a beautiful undeveloped island. This is a place of great peace with the wind and surf the only sounds. The trails wind among a maritime forest of live oaks, cedar, and palmetto. Here are a few photos from our Easter weekend:

I hope that you are enjoying the day and all that it means to you.

Neat little rows

We have been working on the flower beds this week.  My wife has wanted an English garden so now we have two of them.  Neither of us like planting flowers in neat little rows so the beautiful chaos of an English garden is fine.  

I went to the garden center twice this week, filling up the truck with Salvia, Delphinium, Lavender, Cleome, yarrow, Dianthus, Gaillardia, and others.  We have grown our own marigolds and zinnias from seeds that were planted in the greenhouse.  It's tough on plants in the heat and humidity of the deep coastal South.  But for now, on this cool morning, the gardens look wonderful. 

This morning we are getting a bouquet ready for the parents who celebrate their 70 years together.  I know those years weren't necessarily all happy.  But today, I'm choosing to look on the positive side.  I see the photos from their cruises together--both look happy. I look at the Christmas photos of them hugging each other.  And I remember that my mother-in-law told me only a few months ago that "I really love that man".  Seventy years--more than a lifetime for some.  I know that there were some good times during that stretch of years.  

Marriage is such a complicated thing, not only from a legal standpoint but from the hype that we buy into about spending time together, having meaningful discussions, sharing finances, staying in sickness and in health.  So many expectations that no wonder people freak out when they discover that the person they married isn't all that they had hoped for.  Do we ever find anyone who is all that we hoped for?  I don't think so.  I think that we just accept what we can,  and if we can't find anything acceptable then we part.  

Not as many people are making the commitment to marry as in years past.  I understand the reasoning.  With divorce rates being so high, it's a leap of faith to think that you will still love the same person that you married after 20, 50 or 70 years.  I can't imagine my life without my wife today, but there have been days when I could easily imagine it.  Marriage isn't like the neat little rows in a garden, but has its share of chaos too.  If you string together enough good days though, then the occasional bad one or two isn't so hard.   We have strung together some good days this week and over our years together.  I'm a lucky fellow. 

If you attend an open AA meeting

I have attended open AA meetings since I began Al-Anon.  I was encouraged to go to open meetings to hear the stories of alcoholics and to better understand the disease.  These open meetings remind me that hope never dies; that sobriety is possible; and that in many ways, we share the same fears. And every single speaker I hear says they wanted recovery for themselves, not because they were being nagged by a family member.

The two programs were closely allied in their origins and are naturally drawn together by their family ties. Yet the Twelve Traditions emphasize that each works more effectively if it remains separate. Thus, there can be no combining, joining, or uniting which would result in the loss of identity of either fellowship. Separateness rules out affiliation or merging, but it does not exclude cooperation with AA or acting together for mutual benefit.

Some of the open AA meetings I attend are speaker meetings where I get to hear someone's "story" of what it was like, what happened and what it is like now.  The first open AA meeting I attended was a speaker meeting.  I was so moved by what I heard that I developed a great awe for the miracles that can occur in recovery.  I was moved in that meeting to tears.  There was no blaming of the family, just a focus on their recovery through the steps.  I realized then the power of those steps because if they could help someone who was in such dire circumstances with alcoholism, then they surely could help me.

When I go to open Big Book studies or open discussion meetings, I know to not share but say that I am a grateful member of Al-Anon who is there to listen.  I learned that at AA meetings, even open ones, it is only appropriate for alcoholics (or people there because of their own drinking problem) to share (unless specifically asked to be a speaker).  The primary purpose is for alcoholics to stay sober and help other alcoholics to achieve sobriety.  I can't do that from my non-alcoholic perspective.  It would be equally inappropriate for an alcoholic who isn't affected by someone else's drinking to share at an Al-Anon meeting. Or for a friend, who is along to just lend moral support, to share.

Several years ago,  when I was in the first year of Al-Anon,  I was out of town at a work conference.  I was having a tough time--I was away from home, screwed up in the head, and a co-dependent mess.  I couldn't find an Al-Anon meeting to attend, so I went to an open AA meeting within walking distance of the hotel.

I walked into that mid-day meeting and introduced myself to an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair. I told him that I was in Al-Anon but needed to be at a meeting.  I think he could tell that I was a mess.   He asked me to chair the meeting which I declined.  He then told me that it would be okay and would help the other attendees.  I felt unsure about this,  but decided that if I was being asked to do something then I needed to go ahead with it.  God knows, I needed to be at that meeting. For some reason, I felt that I was being guided to do this and just trusted that it would all be okay.

So I read How It Works and then he asked me to tell my story.  So I gave about a 15 minute share about what being me currently felt like and how I had gotten into Al-Anon for help in my own recovery. There were about 10 people present at the meeting and each one who shared indicated that my story reminded them of why they needed to stay sober and of the pain that they had caused others. One fellow said that he had committed crimes on a daily basis during his years of alcohol and drugs, had been to thousands of AA meetings but had never heard an Al-Anon speak.  He said that the honesty and courage that I expressed were to be commended.  These people made me feel welcome.  I left that meeting with a sense of well-being that put me at peace.

I may have committed a breach in the traditions, but I will not forget the kindness I was shown by the AA fellowship there. And for some reason that made me feel better about a lot of things. It may not have been the best thing for a beginner in Al-Anon to do, but I appreciate that the elderly man in the wheelchair recognized a fellow lost soul and reached out to help.

Worms, food, and a wedding anniversary

Another week has begun after a peaceful weekend on the water.  Saturday was stormy, so we sat in the cockpit and watched the storm clouds gather. When the rain came down in a torrent, we moved below to the dry cabin, watched a movie, listened to music, read books.  We went to sleep with the rain hitting the hatch cover over our heads, and the boat gently moving in the small swells.

On Sunday,  the weather had turned around to a beautifully bright spring day.  We took a long walk on the beach, looked for shark's teeth,  and talked to a few families who were enjoying a picnic. Amelia enjoyed her time on the beach because she loves to greet people who pet her.  She says hello and then moves on, wagging her tail.  I like that she has the same manners as her mother, my old girl who died in November.

Beach combing for me is not so much about what I take but what I observe.  On Friday evening, we heard the sounds of thousands of mating bristle worms hitting the hull.  These polychaete worms swarm in a mating frenzy when the water temperature begins to warm.  Their tubes are so numerous that they cover the sand in many places.  Shining a light over the side of the boat at night reveals thousands of the red epitokes.  The epitoke is a portion of the bristleworm that  is packed with eggs or sperm and becomes highly specialised for swimming.  At mating time, the epitoke breaks off from the main worm and can move about on its own. Swimming to the surface, it is joined by the epitokes of other bristleworms. At the surface, the epitokes burst apart, releasing eggs and sperm for external fertilisation.  In this way, the worms can reproduce without exposing the rest of their bodies to danger.

Worm tubes on the beach

There is always something to talk about on the beach.  So many people don't seem to take the time to stop and wonder about what is right under their feet.  Maybe some don't want to know!

We had a foodie weekend too with snow crab and corn on the cob on Friday evening,  Szechuan flounder and crispy eggplant on Saturday, and linguine with white clam sauce on Sunday.  No bristle worms were added though! All the salt air and long walks builds up a healthy appetite.

This coming Friday will be the 70th wedding anniversary of my wife's parents.  We are planning to take them to lunch at a nice restaurant. I'm not sure how all this will go because Mom doesn't really remember who Pop is at times, thinking that he is her brother or father.  And Pop is frail but doing okay as long as the ammonia buildup on the brain is kept low due to laculose.  But then the laculose causes diarrhea which presents another set of problems.  Anyway, we are hoping that all will go well, and the parents will be healthy enough to go out.  I can tell that C. is a bit anxious over the whole thing.

I cannot imagine 70 years together.  I won't speculate on what that takes.  But it takes more than what most people can imagine.  

When did I stop pretending?

I dropped all pretenses about my wife's alcoholism the last few months of her drinking. It brings back some bad memories. I would repeatedly ask her to stop which she would do for a while and then, the insanity would start again.

Finally, things got bad enough that I no longer cared. Her driving off from a party drunk, and leaving me to walk home was the final straw.

It took me a while to learn to keep the focus on me. That took a lot longer than continuing to blame her and others for my problems.

We had so much resentment after getting into recovery. We were civil to each other, but both of us were shell shocked. We both knew that each of us was hurting.

I always thought that an "I'm sorry about last night" would make me feel better. But it didn't because the behavior didn't stop. I could recognize that nothing was going to change with words. She really and truly meant it when she said that she was sorry and wouldn't do it again. And then the disease takes hold and is stronger than the person's sheer willpower.

Fortunately, I listened to what my sponsor suggested over and over. I didn't dwell on all the damage that was done. I did not want to pretend that nothing happened but saw no point in blaming and being mired in resentment.

I've learned that it's fine to speak what's on my heart so long as I don't have any expectations attached to the response. I ask myself "what is my motive?" when I want to speak my mind. That really got me to pause and examine whether I had a lot of unrealistic expectations attached to what I was about to say. If my motives looked anything remotely like "I want you to change so I can be happy" then I chose not to speak or to let it rest until the day I felt I could speak without the expectations attached.

I acknowledged the elephant in the room, looked hard at it, and got my self together so that it did not continue to ruin my life. Everyone's solution will be different. In the long run, we do what's right for us and helps us to get our life back under our own control.