Whispering Wyrd

A few days ago my wife and I were out walking together. I always love walking with her, holding her hand while we talk about our hopes and dreams for the future. That day we were talking about all the different roads life has taken us down, some beautiful and some very painful. She paused for a second and said something that I’ve been thinking about ever since. She said life is definitely a journey full of lessons, gifts, and tough challenges too. It was something about the way she said it that hit me I guess.

Lately we’ve been spending time helping my son and daughter in law with their new baby, our new grandson. We’ve been cooking meals, helping clean, and just trying to make things a little easier for them while they adjust as first time parents. I remember those days well! Caring for a newborn can be beautiful, exhausting, overwhelming, and wonderful all at the same time.

We feel fortunate that this grandchild lives close enough for us to be part of those moments. Our other grandchild lives back in Texas so we treasure every visit and every video call with her. Life changes so fast. One minute you’re the young parent trying to figure everything out and before you know it you’re the grandparent standing in the kitchen cooking dinner while your children become parents themselves.

That journey my wife mentioned keeps coming back to my mind. As weird as it may sound or seem, I’m grateful for my journey so far. Definitely not because all of it was good. Some parts were painful, even absolutely terrifying, and nearly destroyed me. I don’t mean that metaphorically either. I would never want to relive my years of alcoholism and addiction or the long and absolutely brutal recovery from benzos. But I’m still grateful for what those experiences taught me. Recovery showed me parts of myself I never would never have discovered otherwise.

It taught me that I have far more resolve than I ever thought possible. There was a point during withdrawal where I knew there was no turning back. I had already had two seizures from the withdrawal process and reinstating the drug had serious risks at that point of the process. I was terrified and exhausted but I had no choice but to keep going.

People say recovery is “one day at a time.” But during that period of my life it wasn’t even one day at a time. Sometimes it was one hour at a time. Sometimes one minute at a time. I wasn’t chasing “enlightenment” or trying to be inspirational. I was just trying to survive in the most literal sense of the word survival. And with the help and support of my wife and sons, minute by minute, I did survive.

I’m deeply grateful for every person who helped me along the way, even if all they did was say a few kind words at the right moment. Small acts of kindness matter more than people may realize. A little encouragement can help carry somebody farther than they may ever know.

I’m even grateful for some of the people who judged me extremely harshly during active addiction. More than one person told me to my face that I was going to hell when I died. At the time those words infuriated me, but they also taught me how not to share spiritual beliefs with others. Suffering taught me the value of compassion.

These days I look at life a lot differently. My journey hasn’t been perfect by any means, but it has been real. It brought me love, family, hard lessons, recovery, grandchildren, wisdom, scars, and gratitude. Even the painful roads of this journey shaped who I am today.

I think that’s part of the journey, not trying to pretend the tough roads were beautiful. Recognizing that we can still learn something meaningful from having had to walk them though.

Amituofo
~Buck