Choices Have Consequences

 Today is the anniversary of my husband's death.

My husband was killed by a drunk driver.

Quick, what picture did your mind flash when you read the words 'drunk driver'?

In our case the words 'drunk driver' mean a 22 year old girl. A lovely young woman with her entire life before her. Recently graduated from college, with honors. From all reports, she was a goal oriented, studious college student.She is very close to her family, she goes to church on Sunday. After her May graduation she went to work, as an accountant and moved into her own apartment.

After she got off work Friday night, she reportedly went out with some friends. Young people, enjoying themselves on a Friday night. Laughing, talking, drinking. Then she got into her car to drive home. Her blood alcohol level was around .118, well over the legal limit. In her intoxicated state she drove up a freeway off ramp, past the signs that said WRONG WAY and drove northbound in the southbound lanes for a couple of miles at freeway speeds until she hit my husband's car head on, killing him instantly I am told.

This is on my mind because my friends have children in this age group. Children that are stretching their wings. I remember reading somewhere about how a butterfly struggles to exit the cocoon. If we were to help the butterfly, the butterfly would not be able to fly and would die. It seems that the struggle to break free creates the strength necessary to fly. Those of us with growing children know the truth in this. We watch as our children struggle with the silken constraints, and we want so much to help them, but the most we can do is hope that we have taught them right from wrong, and that life is always about choice, and every choice has consequences. We watch our children stretch their wings, and hope they know that there is nothing they can do that will make us stop loving them. We hope they know that when we see them struggle, we will do our best to make sure they learn how to fly.

My husband and I were always very open with our son about our youthful struggles with drugs and alcohol. We felt that since genetics may play a role in addiction, we had a responsibility to tell him our stories. He knows about our 12 step programs, and why we attend. He knows that we celebrate 2 birthdays a year. In fact, he has been quite proud of our milestones over the years. He will tell you that we choose not to use alcohol at our house. He will tell you that we choose not to use illegal drugs at our house. He will tell you these things with pride in his voice, because he knows that in life there is always a choice, and every choice has consequences.

Being a parent is a hard job. We watch our children stretch their wings with such pride and fear. What if we see them struggling, when do we help, how do we help. Have we talked to them about the embarrassing stuff? Kids will groan when the subject turns to sex, drugs, alcohol. They will roll their eyes, but we must tell them anyway.

Do your children know your stories? Do they know that you were their age once, and that you made choices and lived with the consequences of those choices. Sometimes the consequences are benign. You are 22 years old and you choose to celebrate the end of the work week by going out with friends and laughing and talking and having a good time. Since you are choosing to have a drink, you need to have chosen whose turn it is to be the designated driver.

Sometimes the consequences are tragic, and you have too much too drink and you choose to drive drunk, and you drive up the off ramp past the WRONG WAY signs and you kill a man, and nothing is ever the same again.

World Autism Awareness Day

Today is World Autism Awareness Day. People all over the world will 'light it up blue' in order to raise awareness for autism.This is a good thing, unless you are talking to someone who thinks it's a bad thing.

Why is it every thing becomes a subject for controversy these days. I support awareness. My son is an adult now. When he was diagnosed, most people  had never heard of autism. We did a lot of educating one on one over the years. We had too, because my son was treated like some kind of monster when we went out in public.

Now that there are awareness campaigns, and now that autism seems to touch more families, we no longer fear going out in public. In less than a generation perceptions changed.

There is a lot of controversy in the autism communities. The voices on all sides can be loud and strident. Don't ever dare to disagree with a mom that believes autism is caused by vaccines on a message board or facebook. Don't dare to say that you think the 1 in 50 study is a flawed study and that number meaningless. Why is it that everything these days becomes so heated and adversarial?

I don't believe vaccines caused my sons autism. In fact, I know they didn't, because of some medical concerns my son recceived his  vaccinations after he was diagnosed. I don't believe toxic food, aspartame, or GMO's caused my sons autism. Because this old hippie mom never allowed her child to have any of those things. Does that mean I don't believe there are children who have had reactions to vaccines? No. But am I the enemy if I say that is a different issue than autism?

I don't believe the 1 in 50 numbers. I think self reported studies are rarely indicative. There is a 6 year old in our apartment complex who I have been told is non-verbal. The thing is, I know he is verbal. I have seen him, heard him, and had conversations with him. His mother would report that he is non verbal. She called me a liar when I said I had heard him talk.This is one of the reasons I don't trust these types of  'studies'.

But, does it really matter that I disagree with other parents of autistic children? Does that make me the enemy? I hope not. Does the fact that I think Awareness campaigns have made our lives easier make me a 'sell-out'? I don't think so.

I try to hold my tongue in these situations. I have listened to parents fight over these things. I have cringed every time I have heard parents say their child is broken-a term I despise above all else!My child is not broken. My child is exactly the way he was born to be.

Autism is not a new phenomena. It was being studied in the 1920's,1930's and 1940's in Australia, the UK, and The US. It was called other things before the term autism was coined in 1943. Genealogy can find evidence of autism going back generations in families. Anecdotal evidence can describe autistic behaviors for hundreds and hundreds of years.

So, personally, I support Awareness campaigns. The more people who are aware that our children are amazing people deserving acceptance the better.

It is Autism Awareness month, but like the button says, at our house we have autism awareness every day. If having an awareness campaign makes one less person look at my son funny when we go out in public, then I say light it up!!

Peace and Blessings,
EB


P.S.I dislike doing this but there is a paypal button over there,just incase.

Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day. Such a lovely holiday, let's all celebrate love.Yada Yada Yada. (can you see how I feel about it?) But Valentines day can be a minefield for those, like me, that have mixed experiences of the day.

Oh, I hated Valentines day as a child. The Fat Lady started out as the Fat Girl, you know. Back in the dark ages when I was in elementary school 'self-esteem' wasn't a part of the psycho-babble yet. So those of us who were outcasts for whatever reason hated Valentines day. Oh, it was all so innocent. For a few days before we would spend our art class time creating a receptacle for the valentines. There was red and pink construction paper and paper doily scraps everywhere, and the Elmer's glue residue stuck to your fingers. At least that was fun, peeling the Elmer's glue from your fingers.

Then the big day arrived, and we were allotted time to deposit our valentines in the boxes. A mimeographed list of names had gone home with us,and we were free to create to our hearts content. If you were lucky your Mom would let you buy a box of school valentines, 32 to a box back then plus the bonus teachers card. So, every one went around and put their little cards in the box. Then of course we had the treats our room mothers dutifully provided and everyone looked at their valentines. As you reached in your box and took out 2 or 3 cards, after all the teacher had to give you one, and maybe you had one friend, and then some dumb boy had to tell you why you were outcast, you did your best to make sure no one else saw. But it seemed like they all knew anyway. But, you knew that if you showed any emotions they would have power over you, so no tears. You bravely told everyone that you wanted to wait and look at them at home.

Fortunately all of those classroom Valentine parties were in elementary grades, and you didn't have to repeat that particular little piece of Hell again once you reached middle school. But, Valentines day was still an empty day, void of love, and rife with bad memories.

Decades pass, and one day a tall thin man crosses a street in a small town in Missouri. He teaches you, among other things, that yes, you are able to love and to be loved. He manages to surprise you every year with a lovely expression of love on Valentines day. You give him a small plush animal for his collection. A collection that he started when you gave him his first one. A silly little collection for a big tough Marine, but a collection that is cherished by him.

Then circumstances change again. The love of your life is taken away from you by a drunk driver, and you get thrown into the long, difficult act of grieving. Every special day, every holiday is another reminder that you are alone again. That no one will make you smile, and tell you you are loved and ask you to be their valentine. Valentines day is a difficult, difficult day for those who are on the outside looking in. Those who have never had a love, and there are many, those who have lost their love and are all alone again.Valentine's Day is hard.

The other holidays are difficult, but there are ways to get through. But Valentine's Day, that is hard. Everywhere you look, from the aisles of the grocery store, to the restaurant ads in the paper, the commercials on TV you are reminded that this is a time for love and a time for lovers, and you feel all alone. It seems as if the whole world is operating two by two, that no matter which way you turn you are surrounded by couples, and you no longer have the person that made you part of a couple. Valentines day is long and lonely.

If you know someone who is alone this year on Valentines day, please reach out to them. A note, a small card, a phone call. Let them know that they are not alone in this world. Let them know that another human being cares about them. See, we all need a human touch. We must be the arms and hands and voice of love. We must be the human touch. There is someone out there in need of your voice, or a hug, or just the touch of your hand on their sleeve. So, make sure that you do something special for your sweetheart. Do not ever let a day go by, and especially on the holiday that is about love, make sure the one you love, the one who loves you, knows that you never take one moment for granted. But, please, if you have an extra moment reach out to one of the lonely ones. They will appreciate you more than you can know.

Peace and Blessings,
EB


P.S. I dislike doing this,but there is a Paypal button over there just in case.

 

Today is my Jack Benny Sobriety Birthday

So,yes, the Jack Benny reference indicates I am old...but hey, I am celebrating my 39th sobriety birthday today,the fact that I am old is a given.







Oh my word, I haven't had a drink in 39 years!

Today is my birthday. Not my belly button birthday, my day I got clean and sober birthday. Today I am celebrating 38 years of sobriety. Celebrating 39 years of choosing to deal with life and all its challenges, obstacles, defeats, and victories without using drugs or alcohol. 

I don't remember when alcohol wasn't available to me. My older brothers-14, 18, and 21 years older than me- were the kind of guys that thought it was cute to give a baby or toddler a sip of beer, or whatever cocktail they might be drinking. There was always a bottle of whiskey in the kitchen cupboard, and when my dad wanted a glass of wine in the evening, he sent one of us to get it.Alone in the kitchen, no one was there to see me take a swig for myself. If there were family gatherings, not much attention was paid attention to what you were grabbing out of the cooler. After all, the men usually sent a kid to get the beer out of the cooler. So I developed an enjoyment of the taste and effect of alcohol at a very young age. It was an easy way to make life stop hurting for a little while. 

Of course,as soon as I left home it was no problem. I looked older than my age, and was never carded. Really, the first time I was carded was on my 21st birthday. There was a new guy at my liquor store, and he carded me and wished me a Happy 21st birthday. The owner was shocked, since he had been selling me alcohol for 4 years. But, he didn't make a big deal about it. I was a very good customer. By the time I was 21, I was drinking every day. I had started down that road as a teenager with undiagnosed bipolar disorder. I was self medicating with drugs and alcohol for several years. When I was diagnosed, I started letting go of the drugs, but consumed more alcohol to make up for it.

I drank my way through college, and 5 years into my working life. I managed to get good grades, and do good work while I increased my drinking. I had good jobs, but my drinking caused me to make some really, really stupid decisions about men and relationships.Just like the song says "Looking for love in all the wrong places."


I knew that eventually I would have to quit drinking. I knew that it was impossible for me to drink in moderation, and I hated that, because there were things I truly enjoyed and did not want to give up.I truly enjoyed choosing the right wine for a good meal. I truly enjoyed a cold beer on a hot afternoon.But, as much as I wish I was, I am not the kind of person who can stop with one glass of wine, one cold beer, one mixed drink. So, I had to listen to the small voice and quit. The last time I got drunk was on a Sunday night. I had been to a party. I don't remember much about the party, I had been drinking all weekend of course, but for some reason I got really drunk at that party. I think that I totally embarrassed myself, and a friend suggested we leave and go somewhere else. We ended up at her Mother's house. I don't remember how we got there, but I do remember sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and talking to her mother until 5 o'clock Monday morning. I drove home and got in the shower and then I decided to call in sick and get some sleep. I had never done that before, I always went to work. In fact, I got in the shower intending to get ready for work, but while I was in that shower I started getting quiet, and when I get quiet I can hear the small voice, and the voice said "It's time to heal." 

So, I called in sick, went to bed and slept for a couple of hours. When I woke up I felt like crap.I never got hungover, but that day I was hungover. I spent some time feeling sorry for myself, but then I remembered hearing the voice. I knew that it was time to stop numbing the pain, time to stop dulling the memories and to start healing the wounds. I called my doctor, and went to see her. I had a good talk with her and she referred me to a therapist. She called him right then, and he saw me that afternoon.It was Monday, January 19, 1981. The therapist said that he would work with me, but he also suggested that I go to AA. He got out the phone book, and handed me the phone. I made the call and found a meeting that evening. That was the beginning of my journey to health and wholeness, a journey I am still on. It is not an easy journey to start. It is not an easy journey to continue, but it is a journey I believe we must all undertake.

So, here I am. I haven't had a drink, oh how I have wanted to, but I have not had a drink.My Higher Power and I are taking a journey. One day at a time.


Peace and Blessings,
EstherBelle