Happy New Year, my dear Kernutties!
New Year’s is my favorite holiday, for a lot of reasons, but mostly for the fresh beginning. (I’ve always held a secret desire to get married on New Year’s Day.) I read something today that said we don’t have to wait a whole year, but instead can make every day a Happy New Day.
So, Happy New Day!
Today, January 1st, 2015, I turned fourteen years sober. That day is a bit unique as a sobriety date and people often ask me, “How did you do it?”
“I passed out before midnight on December 31st,” I deadpan. (Only alcoholics will get this.)
Most folks answer, “One day at a time.”
The truth is it had nothing to do with passing out before midnight; I couldn’t have done it without the fellowship, and those who’ve gone before me, lighting the way. Thank you all, for my sobriety.
This includes my readers – you have been there for me, too, whether you know it or not. Your comments, your emails, even those of you who don’t contact me (I see your numbers in the stats), just knowing you’re out there and interested enough to read my drivel makes me feel connected to you all in some small way and I love you for it.
Since it’s my sober birthday, I get to write what I want. Today I want to write one of my less-than-stellar “poems” (for lack of a better word). It doesn’t rhyme well, and it’s probably grammatically incorrect (not that I’d know). This one isn’t even happy or funny, but this blog doubles as my therapist. Sorry. Feel free to skip this and come back for the next post, which is bound to be better by default.
This post/poem is about the changes over the last two years I’ve seen in a practicing alcoholic, one for whom I care greatly. He will hate me for writing this, but he’s already lost to me. Alcohol won that battle hands down, long ago.
The Big Heart
Once so present, the big heart is now hard to see
A steely exterior keeps it hidden from me.
Self-imposed isolation and alcohol dictate all
We fear he is destined for an even greater fall.
To the bottom he thinks he’s already been
“I once lost it all,” he says again and again.
So the bottle he continues to choose,
But there is still much more for him to lose:
A life, a love, family and friends,
That heart so big it has no end.
A kind look, a gentle caress, that soft smile
A glimpse of that heart, I still see once in a while.
To be hidden again under the cold hard shell
For fear of feeling the painful, demoralizing hell.
The bottle comes out, and the kindness hides
Sharp words, cruel gestures belie his gentle side.
My hand outstretched offered the way
To uncover that big heart day by day.
To water you lead, but for beer he grasps
Spiraling farther downward ever so fast.
And helpless you are to provoke a change
Letting him go is all that remains.
Farewell, my dear friend, I’ll miss you, again.
Thank you all for being part of my life, my blog, and my sobriety. May 2015 bring each and every one of you peace, love, and happiness!