Dec. 15, 2002 - 19:34 MST

THE WONDERING JEW

Essential

At the age of sixty five I was a hopeless alcoholic. There are many routes to becoming one and I had traveled one of them. Overcoming her disgust Heather arranged for a family confrontation and I went to the Mount Airy Foundation facility to dry out and straighten up.

Remarkably I still had a job and had injured or killed no one. Through my HMO and company policy I got the time off to get back to sobriety.

Going to AA right out of Mount Airy was a very fortunate thing for me. If not for that I would be back out on the street now drunk, or dead. From the facility I moved into an apartment with my son who is single. After he saw that I was staying dry and working, he moved closer to his job and I was the proud possesor of a place to live.

Like many of the newbies at AA I rattled around quite some time blathering about how come I was there and just whose fault it was. I was using the same old tired excuses that most newbies did. Later on I could almost sync with them saying in my mind the words they were saying aloud. But I kept going, and until I went back to work I spent every spare moment there.

I became friends with a Brit in AA who was trying for a green card. We became room mates, which worked out quite well, he did the housework what there was of it and the cooking. I brought home the bacon. We would go to AA together and would visit other AA locations to hear the words of recovery over and over again. I finally began to work the steps and worked them clear through.

Some people can come out of alcoholism on their own, one of my sons did it. I was not capable of it.

I sought a higher power and found it, so with that help I stayed sober.

Heather had filed for divorce and things seemed hopeless to me for a reconciliation to occur. Even so she took me to the emergency room when I had a gall bladder attack, visited me in the hospital after surgery and took me back to my apartment when I was released.

But in my bed at night amid the dreams of going out drinking again and the consequences thereof, the chill of being alone would almost overwhelm me. I would wake from that nightmare to an empty apartment, just me. Even with a compatible room mate the chill of being alone was still with me. I felt as if I were just one half a person. Went through the motions and had some enjoyment now and then, but there was something gravely lacking for me.

I was welcome at any of our children's homes and visited them fairly frequently. But that did not come close to filling that God awful hole beside me.

I managed to get a modicum of exercise at work, that and rambles at near by parks with an occasional excursion to our mountains helped me a bit, but still there was that missing element.

Funny how definitions change with the years. When I first became aware, even though I didn't know the word home, it was where Momma was. Later, home was Momma and the house we lived in, later Mom and Dad and the house. When I became old enough to work, home was still where Mom and Dad were and I was still a member of that household. When I realized that I was seriously in love with Heather I spent every spare awake minute with her. NOt too long after that we married. Then, home was where Heather was. As time went on home was where Heather and our kids were and then as the kids married off and moved out home again was where Heather was. To this day, home for me is where Heather is.

Plus or minus a day or two at this time of year, after Heather decided that I was serious about remaining sober she invited me back home, on probation. I would work, come home and eat meals at home, but at bed time I would be down in the study in a lonesome bed.

A word here, Heather grew up with an alcoholic brother in the home. Although he had never harmed or threatened her or her sister, they were dreadfully afraid of him. Then, after she and I married, periodically I would help hunt him down and persuade him to come home, as his parents still kept him at home when he wasn't working and fed him, he was an alcoholic and remained so the rest of his life.

I can easily understand how she felt when she arrived at the conclusion the she was married to a sixty five year old stupid drunk. I have never asked but would venture to say that our kids let Heather know that I was seriously sober and would remain so as far as they could tell.

After quite some time I was invited up to our bedroom to become a full fledged member of our little household. When that wonderful event came about it was an occasion for me to greatly rejoice. So I had finally come home, where for me the presence of my beloved mate is Essential . . . . . . . . .

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