It's a funny thing how events look so different when you look back in the rear view mirror of your life. The distortions and distances of relationships, both real and imagined, become clearer and focused. On the side mirror of my car it reads "objects may be closer than they appear." Life truly is like that, but sometimes those distances and distortions have to be trudged through before we can look at them and gain their proper perspective.
Squeaky, Ange and I went down to my sister's house for my family's Christmas in the quaint town of Dwight. My mother, brother-in-law, nephew, niece and her husband spent one of the nicest, most joyful holidays together I can remember in a long time. It started with a Bear victory and a variety of tasty snacks and treats. It ended with me relating this story of how different things look in that rear view mirror now.
Growing up in Mokena it was just me, my mom and my sister in our tiny apartment on Wolf Road. Mom worked a lot, sometimes more than one job to support us. We were not poor as there was food on the table and clothes on our backs but Christmas gifts often included underwear, socks, belts, sweaters and other types of clothing. There were toys too. I remember opening the boxes by the corner and if I saw there were clothes or socks inside I would quickly chuck the box to the side in search of G.I. Joe, Big Jim with Kung-Fu action or Vertibird, my all time favorite toy. When I had tossed the boxes to the side my Mom would make me retrieve them and hold up sweaters and pants or even worse, try them on to see if they fit. Oh how I hated trying clothes on knowing that I had left G.I. Joe behind with my sister's Barbie.
Mom went through some tough relationships after the divorce from my father. My sister and I lived through the same pain she did. My mom was private and hardworking and handled her job as mother and father for a good part of my young life. When she would get home from work we would have a simple dinner and she would crash on the couch, exhausted from the hard day she had just put in. There were factory jobs, paint store jobs, Amway and real estate just to name a few.
My sister and I weren't close coming up. I really don't know why. We shared a room in our tiny apartment and the whole floor of a house when Mom got remarried when I was 6. Even though our beds were a few feet apart or our rooms next to each others we didn't talk life. It seemed like we had a mile in between us. We rarely shared our feelings about those challenges that our youth seemed to throw at us left, right and center.
I was active in sports and I wanted my Mom to go to every event. I would run home chattering like a record on 78 rpms until she would shoo me away because of my nonstop jabbering. I wanted my sister to dote on me like I was her sweet baby brother. Those things didn't happen THE WAY I WANTED THEM TO and I resented it. My friends had two parents doing things. I had one Mom trying to be everything all the time. My sister was navigating her way through life's difficulties, as I was, and I didn't understand the realities of daily living.
In my teens I did everything I could to avoid feelings and realities. I would morph into different "me's" hoping to reach my mom or escape the confusion of our complicated family dynamic. When I began to drink I drank "AT" people. It was THEIR fault! I didn't DESERVE this! I had a million reasons to use and a lot of painful material to draw from. As I got older the distances became chasms of misunderstanding between me and these two extraordinary women.
When I got into recovery I regurgitated my life story seeking confirmation that I did indeed have the worst young life a boy had ever encountered in the history of mankind. They asked me a few simple questions. "Did any of these people who cause you so much pain pour booze down your throat?" Well no. "If you won the award for having the worst life ever what would you do about your life starting tomorrow?" There is nothing an addict hates more than logical, sensible responses to our desperately manipulating bullshit!
Today everything became crystal clear to me. My mom sacrificed her life physically, mentally and emotionally to provide for our simple existence. She would have been everywhere for my sister and I if she wasn't going to or coming home from work. She had her own personal dramas to deal with but always made sure that my sister and I had food, clothes and shelter. I do remember she would say "I love you" every day as I left for school.
There was nothing but laughter and love in that quaint house in Dwight today. My mom is healthy and my sister is an amazing mother and sister. We ate, took pictures, told stories and reminisced about days gone by. The past is gone but it can be put in perspective now. When a seed is sitting in a pile of shit it doesn't realize that after it makes it through that shit, only sunshine and beauty await. I saw only sunshine and beauty today. It was a perfect family get together.
For all of you single parents, thanks for what you sacrifice for your kids. They will understand some day. For all you addicts, all the excuses are gone. You use because you are an addict. You will quit when you stop running. For any of you sitting like a seed in a pile of life shit, be confident that when you get through it there is a lot of sunshine and beauty awaiting you.
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