I teared up driving by a father and his eight-year old son holding hands as they crossed a busy street, the picture of trust and love. I miss my dad so much, especially during late summer, the anniversary of his passing. For too many years I focused on what was missing in our relationship, needing to do the gritty work of recovering from the effects of the family alcoholism. Today, I celebrate the gifts - his "dad-ness" in teaching me to ride a bike, taking me fishing along the Tumalo River, holding me on his shoulders so I could see the Rose Festival Parade. So what if it included propping me up on a bar stool at the M&J Tavern in Bend, with a pile of peanuts? I was hanging with my dad.
What I've realized, in one of those curled up in a ball moments, is how my focus on what was missing in our relationship kept me from honoring what I did get from him. I've long told myself that he wasn't emotionally available, and that's probably accurate to a certain extent, filtered through the lens of the late 1950's-early 1960's when dads simply weren't as involved in their kids' lives as now days (not to mention his introverted personality). Alcoholism got in the way, for sure, but soon after he quit drinking, I got started and wasn't interested in much of anything he or Mom had to say. And then he got sick, which triggered even more drinking on my part and a relapse on his, and we simply did not have the language or skills to talk about it (this was pre-hospice, when a young nurse was concerned that he'd become dependent on pain medication as he lay dying in the hospital).
All through my recovery I've said, "I know my dad loved me, but..." What I realize today is that there really is no "but." My dad loved me, period. It may not have looked exactly how I thought it should, but I got most of what I needed from my parents - a strong sense of values (fairness, empathy, integrity), appreciation for a dry sense of humor, a love of music, good sense with money, an example of a stable relationship. I didn't learn how to cook - we were of the boxed mixes and instant dinners generation - but I do know how to make dad's messy chicken (his recipe: dredge chicken pieces in flour, put in a dish with lots of chopped celery and onion, and "salt and pepper the hell out of it."). It really is all about perspective.
It's funny how perspective shifts and changes over the years. Maybe the old guy at my early meetings was right - it is better to live at a "5" than veering wildly from "2" to "9" in sixty seconds. Early on, drama was familiar. Now, when the level of agitation arises, I'm much less likely to dive in and stir the waters. I've got a pretty strong, "Doesn't involve me. Don't care." button. Of course I care - about a lot of things going on the world and with those I love, but not in the old way of needing to have an opinion on every.single.thing.
I missed my June and July Step Group meetings, which led to less robust attention to the particular Steps. I'm putting myself on notice to pay attention to Step 7 this month, which, for me, equals increased awareness of my characteristics/defaults/defenses. At this stage of recovery, I can't validly claim that my "defects" run my life. I may not be great at the "pause," but I am better at taking a step back before getting too deep into behaviors or words that will require an amends. One day at a time.
What memories have undergone revision as you've aged in recovery? How have you learned to cut yourself and others some slack for earlier misdeeds? (Or if that isn't feasible or advisable, how have you learned to detach from the past and move to a more present-focused life?) How do those things you wish you'd said or done in earlier relationships inform how you interact in the world today?
** July could be a good time for a mid-year check up. See the 11/17/20 blog entry for an excerpt from I'VE BEEN SOBER A LONG TIME - NOW WHAT?, a 78 page workbook on the joys and challenges of long term recovery. Go to the WEB VERSION of this page at www.soberlongtime.com to peruse past entries, and to order the workbook via a link at the top right of the page. Thanks for your support!
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