Father Figures and Big Brothers

As most of you are aware of, I did not have a father while I was growing up.  However, I did have someone to fill that role.  First there was my grandpa.  Despite what the other grandkids may have believed, I was his favorite.  My grandpa was my buddy.  He and my grandma raised me until I was almost six years old.  I did not understand why I was not allowed to live with my mom like my sister did.  I always thought that it was because I was not wanted.  I thought it was because my wanted me "out of the way" so that she could pursue a relationship with Neverwas.  I never spoke this belief out loud until I was in my 40's.  Then one day I managed to muster the courage to ask my sister if she knew the reason.  I learned from her that my mother  really did want to take me with her.  My grandparents would not allow it.  Staying with my grandparents was done out of love for me, not because I was unwanted.

I also had another father figure to take take the place of Neverwas.  This man was my Uncle Butch Roberts.  My sister commented once that we (my mom, Bonnie, and Craig may not have survived without him.

Uncle Butch took care of our cars.  I would like to mention here that he was also the best  mechanic in the area.  Whenever our $250 cars broke down Uncle Butch would either repair it or help us find a new one.  He also taught my sister and I to shoot a rifle.  Until recently I have never had a reason to know how to do this.  I recently bought and air pistol to try to keep the squirrels away from my bird feeders.  Thanks to Uncle Butch, I am a crack shot.  I can ping them in the head from 200 feet.  When my mom ended up in the hospital my Uncle Butch -- along with my Uncle Bill and Aunt Bonnie) was there to see that we were taken care of. 

I also remember how Uncle Butch would come to our house to eat his lunch.  We had a coffee can wrapped in blue paper that sat on top of the refrigerator.  It simply said "Butch's Lunch."  Everday he would drop a fifty-cent piece into it.  I am really not sure why he felt the need to do so.  Those fifty-cent pieces really added up and bought us groceries at the end of the month.  Another example of how we were able to survive thanks to my Uncle Butch's kindness.

And now for the Big Brother.  I never really had anyone to stick up for me when I was a kid.  I was teased a lot in elementary school.  I was tall (the tallest kid at Beaser Elementary School.  I also was the only kid that did not have a father.  This was in the 1960's when single mother household were a rarity.  I think that this may be part of the reason for my intense sense of justice.  I cannot tolerate when people are treated unfairly.

The programs of AA and NA have supplied me with the big brother that I always wanted.  His name is Jeff R. and he ALWAYS "has my back."  He has proved this on more than one occasion.  A couple of years ago he got up and spoke when I was receiving my NA medallion.  He said, "I will always stick up for you.  I would die for you."  WOW!!!  I love my friend Jeff as though he were my brother by blood.  He is my brother in recovery.  Another instance of how my Higher Power has placed an amazing person in my life.

There was a time quite recently that I had considered entering the dating scene.  Due to a horrible experience about six or seven years ago, I have been scared to do this.  My roommate Scott told me that if I chose to do this he "wouldn't ever let anything happen to me."  I eventually decided that not only did I have no interest in dating, but I did not have the time for it.  I am so grateful to Scott and his friendship.  He is like a big brother.  His parents have also welcomed me into their family.  It is kind of like having parents again.  It is wonderful when I get to sit down to a family dinner with Scott and his family.

Today I am grateful for the gifts that recovery has given me.  The Promises have all come true for me.

Until next time . . .

Who Will Be My Mother?

I remember when I learned that my mom's cancer was terminal.  Terminal -- what a miserable word.  I was 39 years old at the time and I was angry.  Anger is one of the five stages of grief.  I think that I spent a lot of time in that stage.  My mom was still alive, but I new that it was just a matter of time until she would be gone.

Last night I was standing in the parking lot of a place I like to go on Friday evenings.  I was there with a few friends and they were all talking about their moms.  I started to wonder if they all realized just how fortunate they are to still have their moms.  It really made me miss my mom -- even more than usual.  According to my oldest and dearest friend Annie, my mom is always with me.  I do believe that up to a point.  While no one can ever take away the wonderful (and not so wonderful) memories that I have, it just isn't the same as having her here.

When I knew that my mom was going to die, my friend Lillie B. told me, "as you go through life, you will find that God will put other women in your life to mother you."  She was right about that.  No one can truly be my mom, but I have been blessed with some wonderful and amazing women who always seem to be there when I am caught between Scylla and Charybdis.  They are both my sisters in sobriety and level-headed nurturing women who love me and want me to succeed. 

I am starting my junior year of college in about 1 1/2 weeks.  I often wonder what my mom thinks of me and the person I have become.  I am so very grateful that she lived to see me as a sober person.  My mom was one person who always encouraged me to follow my dreams.  She told me that I could do anything I wanted if I "set my mind to it."  I like to think that I am honoring her memory by being a 50 year old determined college student.  I hope that she is proud of me.  I spent so many years seeking her approval, yet doing so many things that would insure that I would not get it.  I vividly remember her looking at me one day in 1983 and saying, "I may not agree with the choices you make and I may not always approve of the way you live your life, but you are my daughter and I will always love you."

I wish that she could be here to enjoy her grandchildren and now her great-grandchild.  I am fairly certain that she and Emmalyn Ruby would fall in love with each other.  She would be so proud of the men that David and Danny have become.  And I know that she would find Holly as beautiful and as wonderful as we do.

It makes me angry that "Neverwas" (my new name for him) is alive and well and enjoying his family.  I have worked so hard to overcome this resentment.  The anger and hurt has eased somewhat, but it is still there.  Maybe it will always be there to some extent.  I am making progress one step and one day at a time.  I think that's what life is about.  Enjoy your family (both birth family and recovery family), show respect for others, help those less fortunate, speak the truth, and fight for those who can't fight for themselves.

I love both of my families and I am grateful for the women who love me and help me on my journey.  I have also found father figures and a "big brother" as well.  That is for another post though.

Until next time . . .