Nothing But Love Blah, blah, blah :: this is my view of my life -- some of it.
Sunday, March 30
FIRST LEAD
jackson gave his first lead at a meeting thursday evening. when he was first asked to lead, bill and i asked if we could come. he said that we could, but that he preferred that we NOT attend as he felt it would be too emotional for both him and us; and that would make it very difficult for him to concentrate on his task.
he had been thinking about this for a long time, and he had strong feelings that he would NOT present much of a “drunk-a-log.” he told us that every person at an a.a. meeting “knew how to get high;” he wanted to talk about getting and staying sober.
he started to get pretty nervous in the last couple weeks about the lead. he spent a good deal of time talking with his sponsor and other mentors about what he was going to say. on monday, he told bill that he DID want us to come. “of course, we’ll be there.” but as the week went on, we saw he was again becoming uneasy about our being there. he told us on wednesday once again that he preferred that we stay away. “of course. we understand.” we didn’t ask him about his preparation. we knew that this was HIS. he’d ask for our input if he wanted it.
my little sis, pj, had heard that he was leading from our brother, joey. joey, as he had told jackson, was planning to go. joey asked pj to come, too. jax was fine with pj going, and joey’s in the program; and jackson was really thrilled to be hooking up with his uncle joe. jackson’s brother, matt, was coming in from pennsylvania for the lead, turning around and heading right back to school. matt wouldn’t have missed this event for anything. mark (semi-brother) REALLY wanted to be there, but the 6-hour drive back and forth from school made it impossible. jackson’s best friends, chris and lauren, were coming. many, many fellow members were planning to be there for jackson.
the first lead is truly an event in a.a. it’s a very powerful statement of how far you’ve come. to be asked to lead is to be told that you have SOMETHING TO SAY, something to share, that you can help. i am not a member of a.a. i’m an observer, and these are MY observations.
before most meetings, the members meet up at the closest starbucks for a quick social visit, offering rides to others, and a cup of coffee. pj asked bill and me to come up, too. matt, bill, and i arrived at starbuck’s about an hour before the meeting. jax was already there. I HAVE NEVER SEEN THIS STARBUCK’S THIS BUSY. EVER. everybody seemed to know jackson. half hour later, the place clears out. bill and i leave for home, trying to figure out something to do to keep our minds off what was happening.
the meeting was set to start at 8:30, so we hoped we’d hear from SOMEBODY (jax, matt, or pj) shortly after 9:30. the hour went by verrrry slowly. at 9:40, the phone rang.
pj. in tears. pj said that when pj and matt’s cars pulled up and jackson got out of the car, the crowd that is ALWAYS standing outside before the start of the meeting getting one last cigarette erupted. in cheers and applause. pj was floored. when jax, matt, pj, et al walked into the room, the crowd INSIDE erupted. in cheers and applause. jackson told us later that this meeting usually has between 30 and 40 attendees. pj and matt estimated the crowd at over 100 this night. pj said that jackson spoke in a way she absolutely would not have believed if she had not seen it herself. he was hilarious one minute. incredibly moving the next. she said she could not stop crying the entire time. jackson spoke for 25 minutes. when he finished, people stood and cheered. matt told us later: “i TRIED to stop crying. i just couldn’t.” then came the “comments.” pj and matt, once again, were floored by the love, admiration, and support expressed by these wonderful people. pj introduced herself, spoke of her admiration and pride. matt thanked them for saving his brother’s life, expressed his love for and pride in jackson, and broke down. lauren said that her friend, jackson, is one of the most amazing people she knows, and that she is very proud of him and loves him.
we were waiting at home nervously hoping to hear that it went well for jackson. instead, we heard about another miracle.
i KNOW i tend to write in an overly dramatic way about some things. i CAN’T be dramatic enough this time. i did NOT do this justice.
jackson gave his first lead at a meeting last night. because i have resolved a) that i will not destroy my beautiful make-up job this morning, and b) i will spend much less time posting from work in order to do my job and my postings justice, i am writing a verry quick note to say that it was INCREDIBLE. and moving. and inspiring. it was so good that jackson is getting a tattoo today to celebrate and mark this day in a way to always remnd him of its power and importance to him. WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!
MUCH, MUCH MORE ON THIS THIS WEEKEND. YOU KNOW I CAN'T RESIST A GOOD CRY.
and another thing: i KNEW there was a reason why i liked being first into the office every day. I'M the one who gets to hear the obscene phone call voice mails. WOO HOO!!!!!!!!!!
not a good morning when all i can hear in my head is rage against the machine SCREAMING: "rally 'round the family || with a pocket full of SHELLS." there. now it's in YOUR head.
and WHY is it that when you throw a one-liter bottle of pop CLEARLY aimed at someone's HEAD (oh come on. it was only HALF FULL) his automatic response is to raise his leg to protect his balls?
even before jackson left for rehab in utah, he was asking us if he could go back to “school” and be a “regular” kid. we had been home schooling jax; and as is normal for many home-schooled kids, he was feeling very isolated from his peers – not to mention the extreme isolation of the desert of utah and rehab that he knew he’d have to face. he was hoping that he would come home fixed, ready to start a “normal” life. there was no normal life to be “resumed” as jackson’s life as an addict certainly obviated that possibility heretofore (geez, that was stilted, but you know what i mean). he was savvy enough to understand that his home-district high school just wouldn’t work, as he would be going to school there with former “suppliers,” users, and non-users; and even the non-users would be problematic to him, as jackson was known as a BIG user. better to go where he could establish a new identity.
so bill and i looked at a lot of options. jax would not consider a private high school (parochial or non-parochial). we didn’t like the alternative schools that were available in the area. that left the public high schools of neighboring districts. we applied to two. the first closed out enrollment pretty quickly. denied. the second accepted jackson after a little bit of maneuvering. yay! jax was thrilled as were bill and i, all of us feeling that jax could somehow experience a little bit of “normal” adolescence.
that summer, as many of you know, jackson threw himself into maintaining this new sobriety with everything he had. he was growing in every way, every day. by the end of july, he came to us and told us that he was sorry for all the inconvenience, but he thought it would be best for him to continue to home school, as he worried that going to school would threaten his hold on sobriety. his sponsor had posed this to him: “jax, going to high school for you would be like me going to hang out in a bar every day.”
a lot of people are offended when i say that. i’m not talking about your “normal” kid. i’m talking about my addict son, with a tenuous grip on new-found sobriety. but don’t kid yourselves. i’m also not saying that drugs are only a problem in school for kids like jax. it’s there. EVERYWHERE. EVERY school. it’s big.
bill and i were completely blown away by this sacrifice by jackson. he had decided that sobriety HAD to be the single most important goal to him, and if that meant that a normal life might not be in the cards for him (at least for a while), so be it. goddamn it. he KNEW what that meant. he WANTED to be around girls (and lots of ‘em), girls who were “normal,” he wanted to go to proms, parties, football games. he just knew he couldn’t.
so in mid-august after bill and i had dinner with some very good friends, on the way home in the car, i burst into tears when my friend was telling a prom story from the previous spring. i felt so sad for jax that he wouldn’t have this, had felt he HAD to choose otherwise.
i’m not so sad for him anymore. jax has SO MUCH MORE in his life that “normal” kids cannot. god bless them. obviously, in a very real way, they’re lucky. but -- they won’t EVER have to be a 17-year-old who has to grow up so quickly and beautifully. they won’t know what it’s like to have people judge them ENTIRELY for the content of their character and spirit. they won’t know what it’s like to be 17-year’s old and run into people of EVERY age, color, belief system, sexuality, who have opened their hearts so completely to this young man – and jax in turn to them. bill and i have become used to jackson hugging people who we (bill and i) see as complete strangers in the middle of the grocery store. friends of bill (that’s a metaphor that is used to describe somebody in the “program”). he’s had to find his higher power, his god, in a real way, has had to learn that he can call on and depend on that faith. he’s learned to love himself and appreciate every day and every blessing. some people ARE lucky enough to have those gifts without the struggle that jackson deals with. but then again, the value in THE STRUGGLE ALONE and what jackson’s learned about himself by how he handles this struggle cannot be measured.
jackson is very close to his one-year sobriety date. he’s been asked to “lead” an a.a. meeting tomorrow night. my heart is filled with so much love and gratitude for so many things right now: bill, jackson’s brothers, my sisters, our friends who’ve supported us and given us strength and faith when we’ve needed it, jackson’s counselors, his a.a. brothers and sisters (too little words to describe the impact they’ve had on jax’s life). i’m thankful for the “gift” that i now see that his addiction truly is and has been. i thank god for giving me jackson.
21. i think french toast is the most perfect food.
22. i have two "full" sisters, one half sister, 2 step sisters, 2 half brothers, and 1 step brother. i think that's right. not completely sure, but i THINK it is.
23. i learned shorthand after i graduated from high school. shorthand RUINED my handwriting (such as it was anyway). i take notes in a horrible combination of script and shorthand.
24. if "groundhog day" comes on tv, i can't NOT watch it.
25. the first screen saver that i put on a computer was the text message: "my name is inigo montoya. you killed my father. prepare to die."
26. we always wanted to name our first girl child "scout." matt's still mad we didn't name him that.
27. i love rubber stamps. i rarely do any rubber stamping, but i've probably collected several hundred.
28. i'm still friends with one of my best friends from fifth grade. she ROCKS! one of my best memories of her is us just laughing and giggling for hours as we read shakespeare's "romeo and juliet" into a little tape recorder. WE thought it was a riot. we were really dorks.
29. other than backyard "camping" (tv and all), i've spent exactly two nights out of doors in my entire life. once in near-zero temperatures one cold november in a corn field in ada, ohio. once in the desert in southern utah. now i can say, "been there. done that."
30. my dogs both have nicknames from characters in "anna karenina."
31. i'd like to learn italian. other than the swear words that come back to me when i watch "the soprano's."
32. i'm in a book club that rarely reads the same book during the month. we try to, but usually, we just get together to eat, talk about our husbands and kids, and give each other book recommendations. this month we're supposed to be reading "the red tent," but i read that last year, one of the girls read it last month, and i'm not sure about the rest. maybe we'll talk about it. maybe not. we're all ok with that.
33. i'm half italian, half irish. my mom loved italian men. her second husband's name was joseph. i always thought it was a crack-up in elementary school and junior high to fill out the form with parents' names, and i'd write "mary and joseph." you'd have to know my family to see why that's so funny.
the past week has been tough for all of us. early last week, i felt resolved to the fact that all i could do was pray that they (i almost said WE, but i’m not aligning myself with them) meant what they said, that the words that came out of their mouths were in some way related to actual intent and fact. that’s what REAL PEOPLE mean by truth and honesty.
i come by my skepticism of political “leaders” honestly. it’s no secret that many, many more lives were lost in vietnam because of political maneuvering. i’m sure there are some people who STILL think this war was just and conducted in a fair and just manner.
by the end of the week, i was feeling not just a little uneasy at the seemingly effortless progress into iraq and the welcoming attitudes of the iraqi people. i mentioned to bill several times that i felt they (again, i almost said we!) were overconfident and perhaps being led into a larger trap. i’m entirely convinced of that position now. this may be a long, ugly war, with an ugly result. although i’m sure most people won’t even notice THAT. look at north vietnam, north korea, panama, KUWAIT. strong, vital democracies, huh? (sorry, tim robbins: i stole that from you.)
u.s. “leaders” have (in my opinion) looked upon the young military troops (CORRECTION: THAT SHOULD READ SOLDIERS) as pawns in their own little chess game. we are reminded over and over again now that there will be coming great losses of young american lives. i’m always reminded of the ford pinto “thing.” more rich, white men and their fucking sense of entitlement. same thing to ME. collateral damage.
i saw a lot of interviews with servicemen on the tv yesterday. one guy practically gushed over how happy he was to be “here,” doing his duty to god (wtf?) and country, blah, blah, the flag, blah blah decency, blah, blah, apple pie, blah blah semper fi (hey beastie boys: that’s mine – you can’t use it without my explicit permission). i turned to bill and said, “this guy’s dick has got to be pointing straight up in the air. it’s a wonder he can keep his pants zipped for the interview. another guy, a major, said, i’m fighting for the right of the people back home to say that they disagree with this. i wish i had a daughter for this guy.
but i want both of you, all of you, to know, that i’m for YOU, that you believe, whatever your feelings about this war may be, that it is in the best interests of your country that you do your job, and that if that means putting yourself in the line of fire, that you’re there. that we can count on you. i’m so grateful that you exist; and i’m praying for you and praying that the “leaders” take the gift of your commitment seriously. i’m sorry (for myself mostly) that i can’t feel that way. i’m sad that i can’t put a flag on my lapel and have it mean i’m for YOU, not the agenda. i’m sorry for all of us.
two more observations:
the little i watched of the oscars was interesting. i’m sorry i missed barbra streisand. i’m moved by her statement.
is it unrealistic of me to expect politicians to have at least TRIED to understand the principles upon which this country was founded? have only a couple of the south carolina legislature been required to take a civics class in high school? have they EVER heard the words “free speech” – even conversationally? it’s too much, i know to expect them to understand that this right is guaranteed in the U. S. Constitution. this is the real and basic difference between servicemen and politicians. servicemen understand the word “job.”
1. If you had the chance to meet someone you've never met, from the past or present, who would it be? duh. pete townshend. shut up, lucy.
2. If you had to live in a different century, past or future, which would it be? afraid of that mad-max kinda future. didn't mind the bicentennial man kind of future. can i choose which kind of future in what century? cuz if i can, it's 22nd century bicentennial-man like future. got it?
3. If you had to move anywhere else on Earth, where would it be? wish i had heretofore experienced some wonderfully exotic, foreign places to KNOW that i'd like to live there, but i have not. never had a passport. i REALLY thought southern utah was GORGEOUS, but i'm also a kind of a middle-class kinda girl, and i'd miss my starbucks, target, sam's, cool restaurants, and STUFF. i thought NYC was really cool, but it is sooo big, and there was just too much tension in my shoulders while there to love LIVING there. so, maybe if NYC was like 15 minutes from capitol reef national park, i'd go there. i am really, REALLY boring, huh?
4. If you had to be a fictional character, who would it be?wow. i need until next friday to answer that one.
5. If you had to live with having someone else's face as your own for the rest of your life, whose would it be?isabella rossellini. no question.
we brought our first baby home on a hot summer day in july, 1981. i wasn’t a nervous first-time mother, having had a lot of experience taking care of baby brothers. because i wasn’t nervous, bill wasn’t nervous either although he had JUST finished the crib the day before. [yes, bill BUILT the crib we used for our babies. i know, i know. he can be QUITE handy when he WANTS to be.]
we spent that day quietly – just the three of us, enjoying each other. this is one of those days i’ll ALWAYS remember. the day before, bill had shopped for last-minute baby stuff and grocery shopped and prepared a huge fruit salad and endless pitchers of lemonade (he worried about dehydration for me as i was breastfeeding matt). we relaxed, napped, ate, and relaxed / napped again. perfect.
i felt that day like i had it all. everything i had always wanted. [i’m not implying that EVERYBODY’S idea of fulfillment and happiness should be this. if it’s not yours, fine. don’t get all offended. this is all about ME here. take it or leave it.]
that night i had a dream. i’ve been thinking about this dream a lot lately. i dreamt that i was sleeping on the first night home with our baby. bill beside me. matt in his crib. then we (in my dream) are awakened by loudspeakers blaring from the tops of police cars. from a distance at first. louder and louder as they come closer to our home. a “canned” announcement to prepare for an impending invasion. “fill your bathtubs and any other containers you have with water. pack necessary supplies in the eventuality that you are forced to leave your homes.” bill and i jump up (in my dream) and begin to fill the bathtub with water. i grab my prenatal vitamins, some cloth diapers, the baby backpack, aspirin, antibiotic ointment, bandaids (i remember so clearly my thoughts in trying to prepare), try to figure out what food we can bring. during this time, there are military jets flying low over our home. loud. scary.
finally i wake up. moral of this story to me: look what happens when you feel that you have everything. what a stupid moral. i heard the moral, knew what it meant, just would / could NOT live this way. happiness pulls you.
tuesday night i heard a news report on the radio that pregnant iraqi women who were close to their delivery dates were paying lots of money to iraqi obstetricians to induce labor or deliver their babies via c-section before the impending invasion as there were obvious concerns about availability of medical services once the military action began.
i'm loving doing this. i'll be at a hundred in NO TIME. but i promise to stop before i get to #117!
11. i am a HUGE who / pete townshend fan. shut up.
12. we saw the who last at tinley park in chicago last summer. all of us (except matt) were able to go. since matt couldn’t get away to chicago, we called him on the cell when baba o’reilly started; and he was able to listen from pennsylvania. that is a cool who memory.
13. another one is walking into the jackal’s room when he was about 8 or 9 and hearing him sing:
I call you on the telephone my voice too rough with cigarettes.
I sometimes think I should just go home but I'm dealing with a memory
that never forgets
I love to hear you say my name especially when you say yes
i got your body right now on my mind, but i drunk myself blind
to the sound of old t-rex,
the sound of old t-rex.
14. another one is bill telling me (we were maybe 17 and 18) that scott urban did a really GREAT roger daltrey scream when “won’t get fooled again” came on the radio when they (bill, scott, skip, ralph, and mike) would drive to baseball practice. i like to remember that car full of REALLY cute guys zipping to baseball practice and singing with the radio.
15. if bill doesn’t get us in to house of blues to see the who / p.t. BEFORE I GET OLD, um... well... i got nothin.
16. ok. i’m done with the who / p.t. stuff. shut up.
17. oh. wait. one more. i have a who bumper sticker on my white beetle. shut up.
18. i am a GREAT cook. even if i do say so myself. i wish i had thought of going to culinary school when i had two good hands. boo fucking hoo. sorry. but i am a GREAT cook.
19. i had two miscarriages (between matt and jackson). my main regret about babies is that we tried to be so damned responsible and waited 6 years to get pregnant. i wish i would have started having them when we were like 21/22 and never stopped until we had about 6. i think 8 of us (9 with mark!) would have been really, REALLY cool. scary. but cool.
20. i’ve got special plans for my grandchildren. they are secret plans so as not to frighten the seed bearers (my sons). mwah ha ha ha ha.
i really love reading those “100 things” about you guys. i can’t wrap my mind around writing 100 at a time, though, so i’m gonna cheat and do 10 at a time until i get my 100 (or whatever) done. here are my first 10:
1. i’ll be 49 this july. although ... for the entire year i was 46, i thought i was 47. a couple weeks before my birthday, one of my big sisters said, “47, huh?” i said, “i wish. 48.” she said, “nooooo. 47. do the math.” she was right, and i feel cheated. so i’m figuring i’m still OWED a year when i can say i’m 46. but then i’ll have that year when i didn’t say i was 49. i SHOULD HAVE JUST said i was 46 when i was 47, but i was just happy i wasn’t 48. so i messed up. can’t figure out how to fix it now. are you following me?
2. i’ll have been married 29 years this june. so, yeah, i was 19 when i married. i still like him an awful lot. bill is the smartest person i know. yes, you know who you are (the ones that think you’re smarter than him), and he IS smarter than you. i’d rather spend a day with him than anyone. although he is kind of doofy. he knows it. and is comfortable with it. this is the thing that makes me crazy.
3. i didn’t finish college. don’t care. don’t think it makes you smarter than me.
4. my immediate family consists of husband, bill, two sons (17 and 21), semi son (22), and two dogs (12 and 6). i think we’re just perfect. i know a lot of people think i’m nuts for thinking that cuz we’re so imperfect. too damned bad.
5. i have three sisters who are the coolest three women i know. we grew up crazy and devoted to each other. i think EVERYDAY how lucky i, my husband, and boys are to have them in our lives.
6. i’ve been “back to work” for three years now. i stayed home (evidently, NOT working) for 19 years. i knew this before, but now i’ll say it here: work outside the home is overrated and trivial. if you think you have to get a job because you think your brain will turn to mush, then, sorry, it’s too late. you’re already stupid. your problem. not mine.
7. the day before my 40th birthday, i had my first mri and was diagnosed with ms. over the course of the next year, my left side became dumber and dumber. so, i use a cane (for balance) and type one handed (this is why i don’t use caps appropriately). big deal. the docs don’t think the ms will progress with me cuz i’ve had only the one “attack” in all this time. so we like to call it ms-like.
8. i have an opinion about nearly EVERYTHING. drives my kids crazy.
9. i’m against war in iraq. i’m against saddam hussein. i’m against people throwing paint or anything else at people who don’t agree with them. i’m also aware that i’m in the minority about the war, so i feel, duh, it’s going to happen. i pray that we’ll do it right (whatever the fuck that means).
10. i swear way too much. people are always shocked when they hear come it out of my mouth. people are always shocked that i’m not shocked when my kids swear in front of me.
“life is a storm my friend. you will bask in the sunlight one moment, be shadowed on the rocks the next. what makes you a man is what you do when that storm comes. you must look into that storm and shout: DO YOUR WORST!”
“david copperfield” first line:
“Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, or whether that station will be held by anybody else, these pages must show.”
“catcher in the rye” first line
“if you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where i was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that david copperfield kind of crap, but i don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.”
from “a little is enough” by pete townshend
just like a sailor heading into the sea
there’s a gale blowing in my face.
the high winds scare me, but i need the breeze.
and i can't head for any other place.
life would seem so easy on the other tack,
but even a hurricane won't turn me back.
you might be an island
on the distant horizon,
but the little i see
looks like heaven to me.
i don't care if the ocean gets rough.
just a little is enough.
i just received word from jackson that the refrigerator is now IN THE GARAGE! now all that needs to be done is to have the fridge tagged by a licensed refrigeration guy stating that he has removed all the freon from the unit. duh! $75 for something bill did ALL BY HIMSELF for free yesterday! but we need the sticker or else the local waste company won't take it away. we are making big progress, but IT'S NOT OVER YET! i wouldn't be placing any bets on when "billy day" is going to be as timing is delicate here. garbage pick-up is on mondays, so it will be tough for bill to get the "guy" to the house for the "sticker" ceremony in time for this monday's pickup, so then, and believe me when i tell you this, bill will have to get the guy there NEXT week sometime -- coordinating both their schedules -- so that it's done before the next monday. and on and on.
and in the meantime -- whose car will be forced to stay outside?
i'm NOT going to let this get me down. we ARE making BIG, BIG PROGRESS!
my mom was a verrry difficult person. our relationship was extremely difficult, to say the least. she was a drunk (alcoholic seems too delicate a term to describe mary alice -- m.a.) my entire life, and a cocaine addict to the very end. she stole from many people, let her children down too many times to count, and was probably the most selfish person i ever knew. but when she died, i knew what it felt like to be a motherless child.
she was MY mom. and my darling sisters' mom, mother of two sons, one of whom she gave up for adoption -- but is THE SPITTING IMAGE (i am not kidding about this) of the brother she did keep (born 5 years later).
she was gorgeous. she loved music and could speak very knowledgeably about the subject. she had the greatest sense of humor, the most raucous laugh, and was a loyal friend. she was born to two more drunks -- i don't know if they ever married or really what became of them -- mysteries i'm not sure SHE even knew the answers to. she was born in 1926 and was immediately taken in by her 18-year old uncle, who along with his formidable irish, catholic mother, took to raising the baby. uncle jim (as we always called him) was a very devout catholic to whom my mother was devoted. uncle jim married and had three children of his own; and though he loved m.a. dearly and raised her right along with his family, she never felt that she belonged anywhere. uncle jim became a prominent businessman and philanthropist to his church and community, and mary alice grew up with many comforts. she was indulged in many ways, but never felt really cherished.
when she met my father, she was well on her way to establishing herself as "the life of the party." what a party and ride it would be. my father came into the very young marriage with a baby daughter, and they soon had three more daughters. mom could not find a way to show love to her daughters, let alone her step daughter. it was an ugly time for many years. my mother always worked as a barmaid -- the perfect line of work for her. she charmed the patrons and drank right along with them -- every night to drunkenness. during this time, drunk and alone in the bar after work one night, she was beaten, raped, and thrown down a long staircase, which left her with even more emotional pain and a broken back. it was during these early years that she met who would become her second husband (but not until many years later) and the father of her two sons. he was also a drunk. but boy could he party. by that time, my father who was also a drunk but evidently not as much fun, was becoming a "real drag."
there was the next phase where m.a. and joe (only boyfriend at that time) drank constantly. we lived for a period of time (three girls and the two "adults") in a downtown "flophouse" hotel, with the rest of cleveland's almost-homeless drunks and a large number of cleveland hookers. fun time. one room, 5 people. my sisters and i made sure we were never in the elevator alone. joe and m.a. went from job to job (i suspect uncle jim helped out more than a few times) or unemployment check to unemployment check. we girls spent a lot of time alone -- family quality time didn't exist because if joe and m.a. weren't working (which was pretty rare), they were out drinking.
we then moved to the "suburbs" to an apartment (my younger sister and i were to be there for only a short time), where a baby boy was born and then was shortly gone. we never talked about it. i was 9 by this time, p.j. was 8. one day at school, our real dad showed up. non-custodial parent abduction time.
by this time, dad was back with his first wife living in florida. we were on a plane within hours, a grand adventure. but dad's wife wasn't THAT thrilled to have p.j. and me along for the ride. dad and wife ALSO both drank, but at least we lived in a house (and stayed in the same school) until "mama" decided she'd had enough.
back to ohio with mom and her now husband (but best of all reunited with big sister, j.m., who was not parentally abducted as she was sick and out of school on the big day 15 months earlier). m.a. and joe had both been through rehab (on uncle jim's dime), and were trying to make a life. i'm not sure my mom EVER stopped drinking, "step-dad" did; but being a drunk was probably one of his most ENDEARING qualities. i'm not gonna say anything more about that. this may sound (or have looked on the outside) as the most idyllic phase of our lives, but it was not the waltons, believe me. mom seemed to hate us, we felt that way always. we tried and tried to make her happy and love us --never seemed to work.
another son (this one they kept), shit teenage years, divorce, and freedom for us as we turned 18.
mom NEVER found happiness or sobriety. p.j. always kept mom in her life, i took as much as i could and built walls and tore them down when i felt comfortable doing so, felt like I WAS THE ONE IN CONTROL NOW, and j.m. (big sis) had a very rocky, yet somehow more connected, relationship.
through all this, i know one thing: my mom loved us. she just could not figure out HOW to do it. at her funeral, one of uncle jim's daughters (who loved m.a. dearly) told us, "now she'll be able to love you the way she never could." i'm the kind of person who believes that.
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before mom went into the coma that finally led to her death, she was in the hospital room hooked up to all kinds of tubes and wires (she had had most of one lung removed in an effort to treat her lung cancer). p.j. and j.m. walked into the room where hawaii 5-0 was on the tv, mom looked at them and said (with great difficulty, but very clearly), "book 'em dano!" i think these were her last words.
i love this story. i loved her, but i don't know if she ever really knew that, as i don't think she ever believed she was lovable. i KNOW she loved me, and i feel her loving me now.
"Congratulations! Your paper "Low-dimensional Chaotic Signal
Characterization Using Approximate Entropy" has been accepted for
presentation at the IASTED International Conference on Circuits, Signal
& Systems (CSS 2003), which will be held May 19 to May 21, 2003 in
Cancun, Mexico. We cordially invite you to attend the conference and
to present your paper."
i just typed a realllly long blog and lost it. i ALWAYS copy to the clipboard -- but nooooo, not tonight. fuck.
i'm back. got to go back to work tomorrow morning. the big guys are on their way back to school and fiance (matt)/girlfriend (mark) tomorrow. we had a GREAT time. i can't believe i didn't take any pictures!
so it'll take me a coupla days to read my favorite blogs. bill and the guys have kept me informed. i've been busy cooking and hanging out. kathy, bill read to me your post about jax; and i know you don't want my thanks. but how bout my gratitude and a virtual hug? to both you and lucy. BIG virtual hugs.
my long blog was really mostly a rant about local school system and MY feelings on how they failed jackson. i'll whine another time. i know, i know, you can't wait.
it took me until sunday morning to get over my late friday caribou turtle mocha. so i got another one early this evening. it will be fine, right? RIGHT???
note to self: 10 p.m. is NOT a good time to decide to try that turtle mocha kathy has made sound so good.
it's now 3:45 a.m. no sign of sleep. dogs, bill pissed. if i can't sleep, NOBODY sleeps. well, i let bill sleep for a while, but i woke him up a couple minutes ago. maybe we'll paint the living room or bake some cinnamon rolls.
Nothing But Love
