Here's how it began:
My daughter was visiting on what I felt was a special day. Mankind was about to stretch its wings, and I wanted to see every moment of the upcoming journey. A rocket/spacecraft called New Horizons was slated to take off, which was the kickoff to a 9 year trek to Pluto and points beyond. This was right up my alley, maybe not so much for my girl.
My daughter was 9 years old at the time and life was just about to shift gears for her, unfortunately (or fortunately, depends on how you look at it). Myself, I was in the increasingly severe yet waning phase of my alcoholism. Life was about to alter its course for me as well.
We were sitting on the couch, watching the countdown for the little rocket that could, when something dawned on me: once this spaceship arrived at its destination, Shelby and I would look back and recall the day this event started! I explained to her that the ship would have traveled 3 billion miles during that time span....wow. Of course, 3 billion miles is hard for anyone to truly comprehend, especially a 9 year old. I then started on about how not only was it a long trip for the ship, but that was also a lengthy time span for our lives as well. 'A LOT can happen in 9 years.' Yes, I said exactly that to my wide-eyed baby girl.
that was to be my Nostradamus moment-my intuitive, prophetic rambling that would later be a daily, fearful bane for many moments to follow.
It was December of that same year that the then 10 year old Shelby would see her daddy go through a horrible event, involving alcohol, police, violence towards innocent participants, family members regarding me with trepidation and disgust; you name it, it was in there. I was the subject of the disdainful conversation. My own family having nothing to do with me, even having me removed from their property....
The Scourge of Arlington
...and one more for good measure...censure was my budding reality.
The rest of my story has been disclosed numerous times in this very blog. So, to the faithful reader, I will not go over it again. But, to those of you reading my drama for the first time, let me say that the rest of my tale gets much uglier, but by March of 2007, I was on the road to recovery with 3 months of sobriety. Well, lets say 3 months of abstinence, because no one is actually sober in that brief amount of time.
Moving on, this unfamiliar state of being for me was serendipitous, to say the least. To this day, the way the following events evolved is beyond understanding. Was it serendipity? I'll explain: right around this time of my recovery, my daughter was beginning to slide into a lifestyle that would eventually take her to the very brink of insanity, several points of no return-just like her DADDY- but in a much quicker amount of time. She, too, possesses the addiction gene that goes back generations on my side of the apple tree. Her story is her's, and I will not share it here. Someday I will write about this in more detail, and allow her to tell her side, her way.
The point is, had I not been a sober father for her, we would both probably be dead. Does that seem melodramatic? Well, it isn't. That's about as plain as I can put it. But it was my sobriety and my conviction to let go and let God, a concept that wasn't easy for me to accept, that got us both through that painful period.
In recovery, we talk about "triggers". Triggers are things that cause addicts and alcoholics to want to run back to our fix. It is a tried and true coping mechanism that is purely instinctual, mainly because most of us drank and used for so long. We never knew of any other way to cope. Well, watching my kid go through all of the pain and turmoil of addiction, watching and witnessing her suffering and confused method of living was easily my biggest trigger. That was the one thing that could have, should have driven me back to the comfortable embrace of alcohol.
But it didn't. And the reason I didn't is this: I knew, deep down to my core, that it was my job to walk her through this. It became clear to me early on that God had a very precise purpose for me. I was to use all of my experience as a pitiful, despicable, selfish alcoholic and hold my beautiful, precious daughters hand and get her through this period of her life, no matter how long it took.
I never Judged. I never yelled. I never preached. And most importantly, I NEVER ENABLED Her. This was her journey, and I was going to let her traverse it on her own. But, I was always there to pick up the pieces, dust her off, offer a calm, quick word of advice, and let her go.
This was and probably will be, EVER, the hardest, most challenging thing I have ever done...and I've done some pretty messed up stuff, believe me. And, throughout all of this, I would occasionally think back to that day we watched the rocket fight its way out of the Earths gravitational grasp. And I'd say to myself, we're never going to make it. We're not going to see the end of the journey.
I did a lot of praying. I did a lot of crying. I was constantly introspective, not allowing anyone to to advise me my next step. Every time, usually at a meeting, I opened up to catch people up on my daughters situation, I was always swarmed with well-wishers and those that wanted to shower me with advice. They wanted to explain to me how much danger I was in as far as taking a drink if I didn't watch it. I have to tell you that those moments made me so Goddamn angry, I couldn't see straight. I didn't need anyone's advice. I didn't WANT anyone's input. All I needed was an outlet. Thats all. I just wanted to get things off of my chest so that I could live to see another day. At one point, I stopped going to meetings because I was so emaciated from worry and anxiety, people thought I had cancer! Yes, they did. I looked horrible, and did NOT want to answer any questions as to why I looked so shitty. I was ashamed to go out in public because I was so wasted emotionally...and physically. God bless my AA family. I love them so much, but this was MY descent into Hades, not theirs. I hoped they'd understand.
But, I was sober. I didn't drink, and I hardly ever really considered taking a drink. I look back and can't believe it myself. How did I do it? My understanding of God had a lot to do with it. I kept myself spiritually fit, for the most part. That, and I didn't want to let my baby down. I knew that if I were to drink over the fear and worry I was experiencing over my daughters addiction, I would be signing not only my death certificate, but hers as well.
I was determined for us to see that damn space explorer make it to Pluto.
On the weekend of July 4th of this year, Shelby and I were driving back from Mississippi, after a visit with family. New Horizons, the space probe, was just a week or so away from its meeting with Pluto. Thats when I brought the subject up to her. I wasn't sure she would remember because not once did I mention it to her during the past 9 years.
And she remembered.
We made it.
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