Here is my dad’s seven-year chip from Alcoholics Anonymous.
To Thine Own Self Be True.
The day after Christmas, seven years ago, he entered a three-month rehab program for professionals in Williamsburg, Virginia.
He was a functioning alcoholic. He had been able to serve two terms as mayor of a city in Virginia and was (and continues to be) a revered physician. But make no mistake. Things were difficult, and we were in crisis mode because addiction is a family affair. Addiction spares no one in its path and can take everything. My dad stopped just short of that, which made us lucky. However, it did not leave us unscathed.
Now we are still figuring out our new roles in our family. This one change does not make everything clear or okay. My mother’s death a few years prior did enough to rearrange positions; this addition of a new healthy parent has been layered and disorienting. Everything is different.
But I know each day involves a fight on his part. On the same days that I struggle with memories from the past, I know he is sometimes merely getting by—minute to minute. I have much respect for that because I rarely win my minute-to-minute battles. I hope to be strong like that someday.
I asked him once how he handles it. He said, “I think to myself, ‘Tom, you can have the drink. But then what?'” And then he pictures the dominoes fall, one into the next until it’s all demolished.
My dad has to think this through all the time. Less now, but it will never leave. And I am proud of him for surviving those urges while living amid our alcohol-friendly society.
Whoever needs to hear this part…know this: He is 72.
It is never too late. Just in case you need to know that. Just in case you needed to hear that today.
My family is still rebuilding because addiction weaves its way into the everyday fabric of a family unit. But, I did not know this day would ever come. So I am hoping that leaves space for one more miracle, figuring out a new version of our family — a healthy one.
No matter what else might heal and come to be, it will remain the greatest miracle of my life that my kids only know this version of Papa. When I speak about it to my oldest daughter, she looks a bit bewildered. She does not see Papa as an addict. It will be our job to teach her that word may sound harsh, but being a recovering addict is one of the very bravest things someone can be. And she must know this part of our family wiring, as we will need to control our addictive tendencies. His recovery work has made way for his grandchildren to avoid falling prey to this demon.
Here’s to the people who do anything to change life for the next generation.
And to the people who understand that things aren’t always what they seem, including me.
Resources if you need help:
Al Anon ~ Hope and help for families and friends of alcoholics