2001-05-01 - 22:51 M DST

THE WONDERING JEW

Make It Right

While following the path to becoming an Alcoholic in Recovery I ran into an almost impossible task, "Making Amends."

Sounds easy, but it sure isn't. I had to make a soul searching list of all who I had wronged -- adding to it as memory recovered actions covered over as if my id had been a literal litterbox and the scratched over cover could not conceal the smell. My list seemed endless going back through the years. It was then I realized harm had been done by me that only I recognized. Sins of omission are hard for this guy to admit to himself.

The list made, edited and full of additions and corrections was ready to be used. The next step in this soul wracking journey was to contact those who I had harmed, make my explanations (not excuses) and offer my sincere apologies. And offer recompense or some action to right my wrongs.

I faced a task of almost impossibility, and had the feeling of a fly under a descending fly swatter. So many of the people I had hurt had died, so many had disppeared into the catacombs of urban lives in other places, not traceable by me. How terribly frustrating it was to me, feeling I had to make amends and unable to find any of my victims. I did find a few, who had moved on in their lives and graciously forgave me and refused any effort for me to do anything to make amends. Most of them said the offer I made combined with the apology was enough. With humble gratitude I would move to the next on my list.

I had not committed any million dollar crimes against anyone, but the things I had done were heavy on my shoulders and heart. Those who had passed on and were unreachable, those who had moved on and were unfindable were leaden weights on my body sinking me ever deeper.

Actualities forced me to finally realize that what I had done could not be undone, what I had said could not be unsaid and that there was no way to go back in time and keep from doing those harmful things.

Then the worst part came next. Making amends to those near and dear to me, who had watched my descent into Hades -- knowing that there was not much they could do to stop me and grieving because of the hurt I was causing Heather. I was sixty five when the time to work it out with family came, how difficult it was for me, it put me in an almost self defeating mode.

Fortunately the torture was mine and mine alone, as the family and all my loved ones had been rooting for me to be successful in my attempt to regain sobriety.

But I talked it over privately with each individual family member, recounting what I had done to them or caused to hurt them. My tears, some shed, some unshed were copious. Added to my guilt of course was the open armed forgivness that they all gave me.

After about a year, Heather invited me to return home, to an alotted space in the basement. An almost unbelievable thing, as she and her sister had lived in fear of an alcoholic brother in her years of growing up. She had seen the parallels and feared that there was no hope for me.

Eventually I was returned to full citizenship in her eyes, gratefully I might add with great emphasis. Unearned of course, something I had no right to have, given out of her love and hope for me continuing my route of alcoholic in recovery. All my other steps in the recovery program were difficult, mind bending and heart rending -- forcing a deep look into myself to finally bring me to an even keel.

Amends by far was the most difficult step for me. Realizing that no matter how hard I tried, it was impossible to Make It Right . . . . . .

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