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 . . .

The Three Sides of People

I am taking Sociology 218 this semester.  The name of the class is Deviant Behavior.  Yep, right up my alley -- in more ways than one.

This past week we were discussing how people have three different sides to their personalities.  There is the public side that is shown to co-workers, fellow students, teachers, etc.  Then there is the private side that you show to your close friends.  Lastly, there is a dark side to everyone.  This we try not to act on, nor do we show it to anyone.  This is what separates us from the sociopaths of the world.

Due to the fact that I belong to two different 12-Step fellowships, I literally know hundreds of people.  However, I consider only a few of those people to be friends.  Then there is what I refer to as my "inner circle."  These are the people that I allow to see the real me.  These people know both my public and private sides.  They also know my dark side.  These friends of my inner circle know this dark side of me and they still love and accept me.  They also help me to not act on this side of my personality.  The friends who are a part of my inner circle are not afraid to say to me, "What the heck are you thinking?"

I am so incredibly grateful for all of the amazing people that my Higher Power has put into my life.  I am especially grateful for those friends whom I consider to be part of my inner circle.  When I think of the two families that  my Higher Power has blessed me with I guess that these friends would be considered immediate family.

I "keep trudging the happy road of destiny."  I am blessed to have such wonderful people to walk beside me on this journey.

Going Home

I have been feeling so grateful for family and fellowship lately.  I thought that I would post this essay.  It was for an assignment in a writing class that I had when I was attending WITC --New Richmond.  I called the essay "Going Home."  It describes another type of family -- or "sub-family", if you will.  The people in the essay were part of a little neighborhood gang we had as children.  They were some of the best friends a kid could ask for.  The best part is that several of them are still my closest friends, 40 years later. 

Going Home

            I grew up in a small town called Ashland, Wisconsin.  Ashland – at the time – had a population of just about 10,000 people.  The best thing about growing up in Ashland was the fact that the town sits on the south shore of Lake Superior – the biggest fresh water lake in the world.

            Ashland is located on a bay called Chequamagon Bay.  There are plenty of beaches situated on the bay, but when we were kids we chose to play and swim at what is known by Ashland natives as The Hot Pond.

            There is a good reason that everyone calls it that.  The Hot Pond is located right next to the power plant.  This power plant pumps all of its hot water out of the plant and through a culvert which empties into this small part of Chequamagon Bay.  It is the only part of the bay that does not freeze during the long winter months in Ashland. In the summertime this little inlet is usually 10 to 15 degrees warmer than the rest of Chequamagon Bay.  While other kids in town were swimming at Maslowski Beach, Johnson’s Beach and others, our little neighborhood gang all hung out at The Hot Pond.

            Everyday, all summer long, we would get up in the morning and gobble down our breakfast and head to The Hot Pond.  Sometimes we would even pack a lunch so that we could stay all day.  Dinnertime would arrive and our parents would call us all home.  Again we would gobble down dinner and head back and stay until it started to get dark.  Our parents would usually send one or two of the kid’s parents to drag us all home.  It was in an era when all of the parents kept an eye on everyone’s kids. I think our parents really liked us hanging out at the lake because they always knew where we were.

            There were kids with names like Jody, Arnie, Maxine, Amy, Clare, and my best friend in the whole world, Annie.  My little sister Bonnie always tagged along as I was her babysitter in the summer.

            As children we were all fans of Mark Twain’s literature.  We especially loved Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.  Lake Superior was our own Mississippi River.  We even started Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn Clubs.

            There was always so much to do at the lake.  We would build forts out of the driftwood we would find.  We would divide into two groups and have a contest to see who could build the best fort.  We could swim and play all day and never run out of energy.  I wish I had that kind of energy today.

            There was an old tugboat anchored in the bay.  We would get on inner tubes and paddle our way over to where the power plant culvert emptied into the lake.  All we had to do was get in front of it and the current from the water being pumped out would carry us “out to sea”.  If we timed things right, we would end up at the tugboat and climb aboard.  We never got in trouble for doing this.  To this day I am not sure why.

            I have returned to The Hot Pond many times as an adult.  Every time I go there it brings back so many memories of a much simpler time in my life.  I am able, even if just for an hour or two, to forget about the responsibilities of adulthood.  I walk the shoreline and still pick up driftwood and unusual looking rocks – especially the elusive Lake Superior Agate.

            I have reconnected with many of those childhood friends.  This past summer I returned to The Hot Pond with my friend Amy.  It was, by far, the best trip I have taken to Ashland.  It wasn’t because of the way it made me feel though.  What made it so wonderful was watching Amy swim in The Hot Pond for the first time in nearly 35 years.  She was 12 years old again as soon as she hit the water.

            Growing up on, and in, Lake Superior was definitely the best part of my childhood.  I cannot imagine a better place or a better group of kids to spend those long summer days with.

            Some of us remained in Ashland.  Many of us have left to create a life elsewhere.  I think that the “Big Water” calls to each and every one of us in our own way.  Thomas Wolfe said, “You can’t go home again.”  I think we all try to, and some of us come pretty close.

Grandpa's Wisdom

Today I found myself thinking about my grandpa and all of the things he taught me over the years.  My grandpa was my buddy.  He also only had a third grade education, yet he was one of the smartest people I ever knew.

He used to tell me "Bean Belly (yes, that was what he called me), make sure you learn something new everyday.  Because when you stop learning you might as well just hang it up."  This man who had to quit school at the age of nine to go work in the woods taught me how to read and write by the time that I was three years old!

Being a 50 year old college student can be very challenging.  I sometimes start to get discouraged and wonder if it is even worth it.  Then I remember all of the things that my grandpa taught me while I was growing up.  I like to think that I am honoring my grandpa by pursuing my dream of a Ph.D.  I think he would be proud of his buddy "Bean Belly."

Gratitude For Fellowship

I am filled with gratitude today.  Gratitude for all of my blessings, but especially the fellowship that I am a part of.

I like to start my week on a Sunday night by attending a first step meeting.  It helps me to remember that I am an alcoholic and an addict and exactly how I got to where I am.  This past Sunday night the "We" part of my program really hit me.  I was sitting in a group of about 12 or 14 of my fellow recovering people.  As each person shared, I realized that I had felt, thought, or done exactly what each one had talked about.  A fourteen year old boy -- yes fourteen! -- was attending his first ever meeting.  He said, "I was watching Dr. Phil one day and someone on the show told my story."  I told him, "If you stick around here long enough you will find that everyone  will eventually tell your story."

This is just one more example of how I am Never Alone, and for this I am continually grateful.

My Two Families

I have been thinking about blogging for a long time.  I finally decided to take the plunge.  I'm not really sure that I have anything worthwhile to blog about, but here goes.

I really had a hard time trying to decide whether or not I wanted some type of theme for this or not.  I finally decided that I would focus on what has had the biggest impact on my life -- my two families.  Yes, I have two families, and they are both God given.  The first one is the family that I was born into.  The second one is the family that took me in on December 7, 1997.  I love both of my families.  However, the second one understands me so much better than the first.  This is because of our "common bond."


A little over 14 years ago I was told I had to make a choice.  Did I want to live or did I want to die?  I didn't want to die, but I also didn't want to live the way I had been living for so many years.  The problem was that I didn't know how to live any other way.  That was when the miracle happened.  My Higher Power chose to put some of the most amazing, incredible, loving people into my life.  I will forever be grateful for C.M. who looked at me and said, "You never have to feel this bad again if you don't want to."  That was also the night that I met J.K. (may you rest in peace my dear friend).  He truly introduce me to this fellowship that has become my second family.  


I also met Susie that night.  This is where the name of this blog comes from.  She has taught me so many things over the past 14 years.  The one thing she has taught me that has meant the most is this.  I never have to be alone again.


My life changed that day.  I find myself thinking of Robert Frost.

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."

As my friend Blake would say, it's another day in the win column.