Tuesday, February 9, 2010

slime and joy

The drain line from the washing machine at one of my children's homes plugged. The waste water had filled up the laundry tubs and was going down at about an inch every two hours. So off I went to clear the plug.

As I was working, trying to thread a sewer snake through the piping, my grandson comes down to watch. He gets a camping cooling and covers it with a blanket, gets a couple of stuffed animals, and sits down with them. As I pull out blobs of black stinky slime he laughs with glee. He is asking very technical questions such as "How do you spell Octopus?" or "Are you going to catch a fish?" He answers his own questions, even making a really good stab at octopus, not bad for someone who has had no spelling or reading lessons yet. He sat there for the full half hour, chatting, watching, participating fully in what was going on. Well, not fully, since he was fresh out of the tub I wouldn't let him try to thread the snake.

It was a nice oasis in a day where I struggle with moodiness. I felt connected there, my daughter, my grandson, and me. I was struck with how my relationship with all my children has changed since I fell into recovery. How I can now genuinely enjoy their company, and can bust with pride over my grandsons. I see now, more than ever, how my primary relationship had been that bottle of red wine.

This morning, I carry gratitude that the love affair I was having with alcohol has been broken up. That new relationships are forming out of old ones, that I understand that those relationships come with joy and with pain and it all makes life worth living.

The feeling of gratitude is a prayer.

Photo Credit: Tamera van Molken


An Irish Friend of Bill said...

The feeling of gratitude is a prayer.

yes. i feel it the same.
sounds like a lovely moment with yr family :) I think the feeling of connection we have with other humans in recovery is what it is all about. it means we need no longer feel alone. we can share a moment with others in a way that feels significant, even in little exchanges. it is what gives life meaning. I cannot imagine life without it. it is a free gift that came with recovery. we are very lucky to be able to feel it.

Syd said...

My love affair with alcoholics has been broken too, although not severed. I think that the pieces will be put back together as long as my wife and I continue to work on our respective programs of recovery. Thank God for that.

Anonymous said...