Generally, 2020 was not an easy year for people in sobriety. It certainly wasn’t an easy year for me. In, July of 2019, my mom was diagnosed with cancer. One week later I celebrated my ninth anniversary of sobriety, she went for a cancer treatment, and fell upon entering her ride there. Unable to stand, she went to the ER instead of Dana Farber Cancer Institute, where they ran tests and admitted her to South Shore Hospital. She was moved to hospice care shortly after, and would never go home again. She died on Christmas night. Gratefully, I could wake up on December 26 still sober.
After
her passing, my father’s condition decompensated at a quick rate. My mother and
father were married for over sixty-five years. They relied on each other, and each
picked up the slack in the skills the other lacked. Before being hospitalized,
my mother had to care more and more for my father, as his short term memory had
begun to falter a bit. My brother, sisters, and I knew he would not be able to
live independently anymore. He decided to move to Maryland, into an assisted-living
facility close to my brother, Fred, and his family.
Then, the pandemic
started. My dad left Massachusetts in late February, just before Covid-19
restrictions occurred. By March, when visitation at his new place was no longer
allowed, my brother and his family generously took him into their home
“temporarily” until restrictions were eased. As of November 2020, he was still
living there, and his symptoms have worsened. My brilliant father, an
engineering genius who worked on radar defense systems for the government, was
losing much of his cognitive ability. To say that my family has lost my father
as well as my mother in the past year is a fair and painful assessment. I miss
both of them every day. Some days are fine, but as the seasons moved to autumn,
they triggered emotions of this past year: memories of seeing my mom in hospice
daily, and spending that extra time with
dad, the possibility of which I no longer have.
Lately, the days are
difficult. I am sorry that my brother, sister-in-law, nieces, and nephews will
have difficult memories of my father not being the man we knew. Still, I find strength and faith through the
work I’ve done in the last ten years not to have a drink over any of this.
In the world outside of
mine, I didn’t drink over our divided country, especially in terms of the
dishonesty we are shown and have come to expect as citizens. We have taken
backwards steps regarding racial justice, women’s rights, and support for
LBGTQIA+ community. We have forgone a
healthy and safe earth—and made Twitter feeds or conspiracies more important than
science. From the top down, we are rotting as if we are in a vegetable drawer that
is stuck closed.
In
2020, loved ones got sick and died, and communities shut down for safety. Many
jobs/businesses failed because of Covid-19. I began to work from home and left
my house just a few times per week. I am still living without much human
contact, but have been able to adapt because of
who I have become. I am lucky to have a special person in my life, and
we try to see each other once per week. She has encouraged me to re-start my
Dire Literary Series as a Zoom event, and to play guitar again. We even have
band practice-all play, and no work. Being sober has allowed me to have all of
this.
As
for virtual life, Zoom has been a wonderful tool. It allows me to attend
meetings to maintain my sobriety, and to attend meetings for work. It allows me
to run a literary series with an open mic-that gives others, as well as myself,
something to look forward to every Friday. This year has been described as the
worst by many, but I still have a lot of gratitude.
GRATITUDE
LIST FOR NOVEMBER 2019-2020
1. For
my family, who mobilized as a team that has worked together for years, and for
having the skills to work together through my mother’s death and my father’s
illness. I cannot put into words the amount of gratitude I have for my family,
especially for my brother and his family who daily take care of my father.
2. For
my children, who turned out as well as any parent could hope. The decisions
they have made are responsible and realistic. I have learned a lot about living
life from being their father.
3. Spending
the last six weeks of my mother’s life daily with her was something I’ll always
be grateful for. I appreciate the people I work with, especially my supervisor,
Eric S., and Area Director, Joan T., for allowing me time to do this without
pressure to return. I am grateful that my good overall health, helped me be
able to accumulate sick time. State policies for time-off in crisis situations
proved essential.
4. For
continued health in 2020, and for those who have done what they must to keep
others safe. Without others’ sacrifices, I may have become sick, but as of now,
I am healthy, and have avoided Covid-19.
5. A person who has had her own situations to walk through, yet continued to give me
support and joy. (also for her influence in my discovery of Bon Iver).
6. I
have gratitude for my writing groups and that I continue to write, and am grateful
for those who still find what I write worthy of being published.
7. I
am grateful for enough life experiences to produce this book.
8. For
a home that I love. It makes staying home easier.
9. For
a job I enjoy.
10. For
food to eat.
11. For
my pets.
Lastly but most important--because, without this, I
might not have nothing on this list:
12. I
am forever grateful for the people who helped me to get sober ten years ago. Today,
it’s the people who help me to stay sober and teach me through their
experience, strength and hope who help me continue my journey. I have been
shown a spiritual Higher Power which is no longer myself. I have people, MY
people, whom I talk to every day. I have
learned to experience and live life today like I’ve never done before because
of them. They have taught me humility,
when before I didn’t even know what that word meant. They have made me a better
person. I love so many of them, very much. Each year is better than the last
regarding my sense of true-self and my ability to love. I thank them for the
last ten years.
