Category: recovery

Dear Dad, thank you for calling…

Dear Dad, thank you for calling…

I look at it this way Pops. Our futures have intertwined so that both us may come to know a final peace and understanding of ourselves. I’ve always known the only way through any or all of this was was by having to find a way to not only forgive and forget, but to also remember the love that was there as well.

If you’re willing to reach out today and ask for help, and I’m more than touched that you did. Than let’s find that peaceful journey for you to the next chapter of you life and in turn both our lives as father and son. I picked a beautiful spot by a pond with wildlife galore. Come and enjoy it with me…

I’m sorry your wife wants to move on right now. I can’t imagine how difficult or painful that must be while continuing to combat the effects of parkinson’s on a daily basis. We can and will find a way to provide better for you including living with me in a two bedroom home already outfitted with support bars in the bath and shower and your own bedroom to boot. (I planned it that way when I moved here two years ago,)

You’ve always trusted me to handle complex paperwork for you. When I was younger and there were all sorts of health insurance forms or union documents to read and figure out you always turned to me for help. It was out bonding time together. I loved when you’d trust me because you knew I was smart and I’d get a kick out of seeing you smile like “Oh yeah, I get it now. Thanks!” I never knew it was from the dyslexia you’d grown up with all your life. I enjoyed the trust and you trusted me in turn.

I was proud to be the son of a union factory worker. You worked you way to shop steward by reading and re-reading all of the contracts and union books. You always had a strong sense of right and wrong when it came to the working man and you’d go to bat for them. Some of the best memories I have is going to union hall meetings with all the cigarette smoking and guys yelling at the mic;s in the aisles. You never gave up and you never took a hand out either. I remember more than a few strikes and picket lines too.

I’ve never forgotten where I came from Pops…

I can safely say that after spending more than just a few 24 hours “on the inside” of more than a couple dozen rehabs and psych wards. I fully understand the fear of having your life upended and landing somewhere when you no longer decide what bedtime is or where or when you get to take a walk. It’s scary and I totally get it. That’s why I need you to trust me now and let’s get you someplace safe. Hopefully with me here in Massachusetts. If you’re going to need 24 hour care for medication reminders every three hours, I’m more than willing to do that for you.

I’m glad you called this evening. And I’m even more glad that you acknowledged I was angry but that you were willing to move on. That meant a lot to me. So if you’ll trust me once again to get you to the next step I’m ready when you are.

Your Son, ~R

Winner Takes All…

Winner Takes All…

From one of my favorite stories of the Big Book of A.A. Winner takes all is about a young woman born legally blind but keenly aware she was the lesser wanted child of her siblings. This is the last chapter of the story and it was the one that gave me my Aha moment. Regardless of how things do or don’t turn out with my Father. None of that is relevant. Today is relevant. What I choose to think and feel is relevant. How my actions reflect those thoughts and feelings are relevant.

It’s hard when you have to say goodbye to a parent, especially one who’s still living. I don’t hate my Father but I don’t like him either and that’s a very valid feeling. I wish him the best in whatever capacity that might mean for him today. For myself? I’m moving forward to continue my healing process.

Hope for me are the positive things I can see on the horizon. Those in the front window of my imaginary car. The rear view mirror serves me no purpose any longer. It’s utility is reserved only for short and subtle reminders of where I’ve been and where I never want to return.

Although my Father may have been the primary cause for stuffing and swallowing my feelings of guilt and shame all these years. That doesn’t mean it’s a permanent state of being. The choice is mine, on a daily basis.

Today. Today I choose to be happy and I hope you’ll do the same. ~R

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