Thursday, April 23, 2015

Choices

Dad & me, 1974

My Dad just had major heart surgery.  You know, the kind where they saw open your torso and pry open your skeleton like a side of beef at a butcher shop.  He was advised by doctors that he needed this surgery 11 years ago but was reluctant to do so.  I get it.  No one WANTS surgery, unless it's cosmetic.  I too would be hard pressed to just hop on the operating table if I was told by western  medicine that I needed to.  I would immediately embark on a journey of healing through nutrition, exercise, meditation and herbs.  That's me.  That's not what my Dad did.
     My Dad is an alcoholic.  So am I which is why I work so hard to maintain my 13+ years of sobriety.  My father has never stopped drinking and I don't even know if he's ever wanted to or tried to.  I haven't seen him in more years than I can count but the last time I did he pretty much subsisted on caffeine, nicotine, and alcohol.  When I talk to him now he sounds the same as he always has albeit a little less sharp with his verbal communication and there's a lot more hacking involved.  He decided to get the surgery because his wife of 30 years died pretty suddenly a few months back and now he has no real reason to stay alive - those were his words not mine.
     For me I think things would be the exact opposite.  Wouldn't you want to get as healthy as possible  to sustain longevity for the person/people you love?  The point of any intense surgery is to prolong life or at least improve the quality of it.  Because open heart surgery is clearly a huge gamble, in his eyes risking death at the doctors hands while he was still married seemed out of the question - now that he's alone the outcome is unimportant to him.  Alcoholism surely clouds, rots, and warps the brain among other things.  One of the main reasons I wanted to get sober.  I wanted to be clear in my life and know that the things I was doing were coming from a real or pure place and not one mired by toxins.
     My Dad is pushing 70 and to be quite frank I'm surprised he has made it this far.  There doesn't seem to be much rhyme or reason as to when your time is up.  When I called the hospital after his surgery the nurse said she had a touchy equation to ask.  She wanted to know if my Dad was a big drinker.  Alcoholism is a deadly disease and it can wipe you out fast as a plague or it can kill you slowly and meticulously like an incurable cancer that eats away at you until you are a shriveled husk of your former self.  You could be sober and get hit by a bus or you could drink away your life into your 90s.  For me it came down to quality of life.
     Originally, I got sober because heroin was bound to kill me fast the way I was going.  When I started drinking again a while after rehab I never went back to heroin but I partied like it was 1999 most nights of the week.  That was the myth in my head that BIG, BAD, HEROIN was the culprit and not me and my destructive behavioral patterns and choices.  I ran with that for a long time.  I looked fine, I worked at least 5 nights a week and always had a fat pocket full of bar tending money.  No one was pointing their fingers at me telling me I had better change or else but...deep, down inside I knew that I was spiritually empty and that my life was pretty hollow.  Just a series of nights and mornings that all blended together with some fun in between but mostly just a cycle of getting wasted, sleeping it off and repeat.
     I'm not sure if my Dad is happy.  I know that of late he is in mourning but beyond that I have no idea.  I don't know if he had dreams that all fell by the wayside and goals that were left in a heap like yesterday's trash.  For me, I knew that alcohol was a self-imposed road block to the real me and that if I had any hopes of finding my way to that person I had better change my ways.  I got sober for me which is the only reason why I think it's worked this time around.  I really wanted to find out where I could go in this life and who I could become and to know what it truly meant to love - especially myself.
     I hope my Dad recovers and feels better.  I have long ago lost hope that he would ever lead a different life style.  I'm not sure what the quality of his life will be post-surgery.  His wife is gone, his health is hanging on by a thread and the worst part, for me at least, is that that the adventure is all gone.  I want to be like my beautiful Grandma Molly who was robust and curious up until her 90s.  I want to feel good and look good and continue to learn and grow and explore this beautiful, vast planet.  If I was still drunk I wouldn't have any of those choices.  I want to continue to go to sleep every night fully aware of the things I have done and the day I have had and not try to black out to ease the pain and shame of my behaviors.  For me self love is my top priority and that's exactly what sobriety is.


   




Wednesday, April 8, 2015

Wisdom

Beautiful Mom & Grandma, 1981

The other day while talking to my mom I heard something I had never heard before. She said that people who struggle and struggle their whole lives but never seem to get past their troubles are younger souls. They haven't been around for enough lifetimes to get past their obstacles. The people that conquer their turmoils and learn to flourish despite obstacles are older souls.  They've been around many lifetimes and have had more time to grow.  Wise words, indeed.  I firmly believe that we are reincarnated again and again in order to learn the lessons we are meant to. Perhaps when we truly become fully evolved beings our souls are then set free and our time on earth is done.
     The idea of reincarnation was never unusual to me. As a very young boy my Grandma Molly told me about reincarnation and I belived it.  Molly was also a very wise and spiritual woman and she opened my mind up to a lot of ideas that would be considered esoteric to some.  After learning about that I was 100% certain that I was King Tut reincarnated, I was beyond fascinated with Egypt and Egyptian mythology - perfect for a future goth.  When my mom got me tickets (2 years in advance) for the King Tut exhibit at The Metropolitan Museum of Art I was never happier. Grandma Molly lived waking distance to The Met and I always loved spending time with her in that magical place.
     Every time I talked to my grandma I felt like I learned something new. Even in her 90's she was still learning things about herself and was open to the fact that there is always more knowledge out there.  In fact, she taught me that we actually know less as we get older or, more accurately, we learn that we are just a small piece of a vast universe and many questions have no answers.  The same goes for my mom now.  Sometimes she just has a lovely insight into a situation or puts something into a perspective that I hadn't thought of. She's an amazing listener which leads to greater insight - when someone really hears your words they understand them more.  Most people are too busy thinking about what they are going to say next to actually hear what you are trying to convey.
     I've always felt a deeper connection to the matriarchal side of my family.  My whole life I've had a closer and more in tune relationship with women.  Even though I'm gay I've had a harder time communicating with men.  Maybe it's because the examples I had of who was actually around physically and emotionally were the women in my family.  My Grandpa was a very hardworking and loyal man and was always supporting us financially but I never felt close to him and I had a hard time having conversations with him.  At one point when I was a kid I had 5 grandmas (including 2 great grandmas and a step grandma) and 3 of them I was very close to.
     Now, every time I talk to my mom and even my dad, on occasion, I find that I gain some kind of insight or new perspective.  When I talk to my dad I usually learn something about myself and, often, the conclusions I come to are slightly uncomfortable.  With my mom though, besides the comfort and love I feel from her I also tend to hear pearls of wisdom and insight on how to navigate the rocky waters of life.  I try to be more like her all the time by being a better listener and trying to be more gentle - especially with myself.