A Prayer for Santa

I took a leave from my job as a secretary at our local Parish -- Father Bob said he could get some volunteers to help out and I could come in whenever I could to help them over the rough spots. More and more I would take Carla over to Mom's house and stay with Charlie in the dark hours. He would look nervous much of the time, particularly the first few days. Some nights he would be lucid and other nights he would have trouble thinking clearly.

I think all of this was almost as hard on me as it was on Charlie. After a couple of weeks, Charlie starting gradually improving. It wasn't a sudden thing at all, more like a gradual improvement with occasional relapses.

One night I'd dozed off in the chair and woke to find my husband looking at me.

"June, you look exhausted! I'm doing better -- I think the worst is over. I know that neither of us could ever do that again."

He looked sad and continued, "I know you still love me. No one could do what you have done for me without a strong love to support it. I will get through this but I don't know what or who I will be. You've stood by me but I don't know if I will be someone you would want to live with."

I moved over to the bed and held him. "Charlie, let's just take this a little at a time and do the best we can. That's all either of us can do. I do love you honey but ... well this is changing me too. I guess I have the same questions as you do. Will you still want me when you are ... well, better?"

We held each other for a while, then Charlie asked me to start coming in days.

"Doc said you could start bringing in Carla to visit now. He thinks I can be released in another week or two. Did he talk to you about this place in Belize?"

"Yes, Honey. It sounds wonderful. I understand the treatment is for twenty-eight days and you can stay longer if you need to."

"Yeah, and I can have visitors. I don't know if we will be able to afford for you and Carla to come down. We will have to see."

I gave him a bigger hug and a sweet kiss and went on to Mom's place. I would take a nap over there and take Carla home in the morning.

Rehab -- Charlie

The place for my rehab turned out to be lovely. It was outside of a small town in Belize called Corozal and was right on Chetumal Bay -- just a few miles from Mexico. It was beautiful, modern and quite comfortable.

Their program was centered on a twelve step based treatment like Alcoholics Anonymous uses. As I learned on my first day,

We use a systemic approach to assess and define the clinical, physical, and nutritional goals for each resident. Individual treatment plans are developed to help each resident achieve mental, emotional, and physical harmony.

It sound a little dry but I came to realize there was a big focus on physical activities. They had riding horses, sailboats, a full gym, massages, just about everything I could want. The rooms were small but clean and cheerful. My window looked out onto the bay. I grew to really like early morning walks on the beach.

I was amazed at how weak I was. The first week I had trouble sleeping; I was just too tired. But as my body, along with my mind, was cleansed I started putting on weight and regaining some strength. I was still tired now ... but it was the tiredness of honest exercises and not that of exhaustion.

June called every other day or so and gradually we talked longer and longer. I had never lost my love for her but I was realizing, remembering just how much I loved her. Driving me each day was my dream of putting my family back together.

It wasn't all easy -- I had some really hard spots. I would see a glass of the tropical fruit juices they would give us and I could taste what it would be like with alcohol in it just by looking. I would become light headed with my aching need. I found that hard exercise worked the best. I'd find someone for racquetball or a pickup basketball game. At night or if I couldn't find anyone, I'd go for a jog along the beach and maybe a swim in the warm water.

Sometimes when I felt overwhelmed I'd call June and she would talk me through it. I knew that eventually I would have to find the strength from within ... but for now she was my support and helped me out through some bad times.

One night she made me cry.

"Charlie, I've joined Al-Anon. I've started weekly meetings and, oh, Charlie, it helps me so much! It's a wonderful group of men and women; last night there were eight women and four men. We share our experiences, and find strength and hope with each other. We share our feelings and frustrations. Each of our stories is different but that helps us to understand we are not alone. We come together to strive for a better life.

"I've carried this alone for so long and now there are others to help me. Charlie, I hope you will find an AA group when you get home."

She went on to tell me she had the Order For Protection lifted but I had no idea what she was talking about so I didn't say anything.

~~~~~~

Time passed and I gradually got better. My physical health improved greatly but I still had a long way to go. I had daily workouts with a trainer. I talked things over with my counselor and called my doctor at home a couple of times.

The sessions at this place were for twenty-eight days and could be repeated as necessary. Doctor Wilson convinced the insurance company to go for another session. This time they were going to cover the whole thing.

They had agreed to do a formal study and send several people over the next year. They were planning on tracking costs and follow-up programs to determine the success rates. I'd been in business enough to know that the only thing they really cared about was how it would impact their bottom line.

So I signed up for another twenty-eight day session. I had three days in before the next session started. There were about half a dozen of us that stayed at the facility in between sessions.

I was at the stables taking care of my horse when I heard a page for me to report to the front desk. Part of our therapy was to learn to take care of the horse that was assigned to us. I grew to like it and began thinking about looking for a place close enough to Portland to keep a couple of horses. I knew Carla would love to have one.

Meanwhile I was learning all I would ever need about caring for a horse. I did all the grooming, mucking out and exercising for Pearl; an off-white mare that I guessed was close to pearl in color. I grew to love the old lady and would miss her when I left.

I walked into the lobby and stood uncertainly waiting for my eyes to adjust to the relative dimness of the lobby after being in the bright, tropical sun.

"Charlie!" I heard as a woman grabbed hold of me and tried to squeeze me to death. It was June.

I was floored; I had no idea she was coming.

"The Women's Club at the Parish had a bake sale and bought me a ticket to come down. I'm sure Father Bob was behind this. He said he missed the challenging talks you would have with him about the problems with the world.

"Anyway I'm here and I can stay for four days."

They had already put her suitcase in my room. It was lunchtime so I led her over to the cafeteria -- it was an open walled building built close to the edge of the bay. It was warm out but the fresh breeze and the overhead fan made it enjoyable. Lunch was a simple meal of fresh caught fish and rice. I had no idea how it tasted. June had started working out and looked great.

We went back to the room and I sat on the balcony looking at the water while June took a shower. She called me in and we came together in a fierce coupling -- our need for each other almost overwhelming us. We fell asleep in the afternoon warmth and woke up to come together again. This time it was slow, with time to explore the forgotten nooks and crannies of the other's body. Neither of us had been with anyone during the year we had been apart.

The time together was glorious -- our love was renewed, refreshed. We talked often of the problems we would face and committed to work to put our family back together. Our parting was full of sweet sorrow and washed by our tears.

I was sad that night, alone in my room. Her love was a lingering presence, though, that helped me through that night and the nights to come.

The second session was easier and harder. I was starting to get in great shape. At first I had gained weight as I added muscle mass. Now I was losing a little of that as I toned up and got rid of some flab I had put on through my drinking years.

What was hard was dealing with my impatience to get home to my family. I was a bit scared -- I would lose the support of being in an artificial, closed environment. Could I deal with everything when I could do anything I chose to? In the evening chats with June I shared my fears.

To Live and Love Again - Charlie

Homecoming was a real high -- June had a party, a small one, just family -- and there were tears shed. The love we all had for one another was incredible. June's folks and her sister Judy with her kids had driven over to Beaverton from their home in Portland. We had an acre on SW Denny Road. My parents flew up from San Jose and my sister drove down from Walla Walla, up in the Washington apple country.

The next morning dawned quiet. It was a bit of a let down after the warmth of the reunion of the night before.

June fixed me a nice breakfast and over coffee we talked.

"Charlie, there is an AA meeting tonight, and every Tuesday, in the party room at the pizza place down from my the grocery store."

She looked a bit hesitant, and added, "Charlie, could you go for me? I mean, could you go for you?"

She looked scared that I'd say no or get upset.

"Honey, will you keep going to Al-Anon for me?" I asked her.

She came over and sat on my lap, crying, holding me.

"Charlie, Father Bob said he would take you tonight. Did you know he's been an alcoholic for ten years? He usually goes to a support group of other priests but he goes here sometimes.

So I went to the meeting. There were about ten people there -- mostly guys but two women. A couple of them were finishing off a pizza while everyone was coming in. The meeting got started; everyone was very welcoming. Then one of the women got up and started talking.

My name is Jenny and I'm an alcoholic. And now I know that I will always be an alcoholic and that only with the support of friends and family and a caring group like this can I stay sober.

Today, each and every day, my mornings are a lot easier. I wake up knowing exactly what I did the night before. That is a really awesome feeling. I've been busy with work, meetings, breathing, sleeping, eating, and putting one foot in front of the other ... and taking it one step at a time.

I've started painting again and my little boy can even tell what my pictures are supposed to be.

As you know I started at this AA meeting a couple of months ago. I was, like you know, this is an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. Why is this so hard for me? Why am I here?

And then one of the guys - yeah, you Joe - said, "Did you get out of bed this morning, brush your teeth, and eat breakfast?"

"Yes, of course," I replied.

"Well, did you find any of that to be particularly difficult?"

I answered, not knowing where he was going, "Well, no."

To which he said, "Tell me about a typical morning routine when you were drinking."

Oh, yeah! As I thought back to those mornings after a binge, I slowly realized what he was pointing out. I don't know about you guys but my mornings were something I don't want to remember ... or do again!

I'd wake up in the dark hours of the morning when the booze had worn off and my nerves would start screaming. I'd have a terrible headache, a foul tasting dry mouth, and my stomach would feel like I had gone to town on Jalapeños the night before.

I'd crawl to the bathroom and find something, anything, to quiet the war between my stomach and my head. I'd get to the kitchen as best as I could for the last thing my stomach wanted ... but from experience I knew would help — several large glasses of water.

By then I'd be feeling lightheaded and usually quite nauseous, and about to head for the bathroom to worship my porcelain god. I'd be promising my maker and everyone I knew -- and even those I hadn't met yet - that I wasn't gonna drink anymore. Then I'd go back to bed to die or feel better ... whichever came first. By that time I really didn't care anymore.

After sharing that, Joe asked me, "Isn't it much easier to get up in the mornings now?"

I laughed and agreed with him. My mornings are so much easier now, thanks to y'all. It's not easy but I deal with it. I take one step at a time one day at a time. I don't live for yesterday and not for tomorrow. I live for now, for this moment, and with your prayers I'll stay sober for this one more day. I haven't had a drink in fifty-three days.

I love you guys. God bless you!

After the meeting, several of the guys came by to introduce themselves -- it seemed like a great group. From looking at them you would never know that they were all alcoholics. But then when I would look in the mirror, it never occurred to me to say to myself: "Hey, look. That guy is an alcoholic!"

Father Bob stayed for a while afterwards and we lingered over a cup of coffee.

"Charlie, I guess you never knew I was a drinker, did you?"

Considering that I had never seen him take a drink, I replied, "No, Bob. I just thought that you didn't drink."

"Yeah, I went through it all. It's lonely being a priest. That might sound funny, surrounded by people like I am all the time. But at night, well, it gets lonely. Time hangs heavy and there is always booze available around a parish. I've been sober for years but I still get about a dozen bottles of this or that at Christmas each year.

"What about you, Charlie? You doing okay?"

"I guess so. It's hard -- I thought that once I got through detox and rehab that the craving would go away."

"No, Charles, it doesn't work that way. There isn't a day that goes by ... hell, even an hour that goes by that I don't crave alcohol. Canon law allows non-alcoholic wine for 'pastoral reasons' so I don't use the real wine for myself. If you, or anyone else, want to do the same I can set that up.

"This will be the hardest thing for you. The temptation is so strong: 'Oh, a small glass of white wine will be okay' or 'Shoot, this is part of communion, shouldn't be a problem.' The only thing that works for me, for you or for anyone is zero tolerance."

I must have looked a little discouraged at that, because he continued, "Hey, you won't be alone in this. If you want I can be your sponsor. It's like being a big brother. I'll be there for you anytime you need me. If you feel you have to have a drink at two in the morning, call me. Or if you just want to talk, let me know."

I went on home buoyed by the thought that there was a group there for me and that Father Bob had stepped up to the plate for me personally.

Other things helped bolster my confidence. I stopped by and talked to my old boss at Financial Software Sales and Service. I knew him pretty good and he came right out and asked if I was going to AA. He agreed to take me back on a trial basis, "But if I see you take even one drink you're outta here and there won't be any coming back."

Carla was a special joy for me. She was very clingy for the first few weeks but settled down to just being "my girl." I spent a lot of time with her, playing games, reading books to each other. I was amazed that I had so much time available. I guess in a very real way my hobby had been to be a drunk and that had so consumed me that it was all I did and all that I was.

June was so happy but it was like she was walking on eggshells. She was so proud of me and very supportive but it was like she couldn't believe I was better. Some days I couldn't believe it either!

As the months went on we both started relaxing somewhat. We both went to our weekly meetings religiously and during the week we would talk about our experiences. We didn't talk about what others had said at the meetings -- that, of course, was verboten. We would discuss in more generality, like: "There was a guy that had just completed three years of being sober -- we had a cake for him." or "One of the guys was struggling and asked for our prayers. It helps me to know I'm not alone."

To Live and Love Again - June

It wasn't until Thanksgiving that I started feeling like the dream was real and wouldn't turn back into a nightmare. We all got together at my mom and dad's house -- everyone from both of our families came.

For the prayer at dinner we kept to the family custom -- we went around and each person said one thing they were thankful for. When Carla said, "I'm glad to have my daddy home again," there wasn't a dry eye at the table.

One thing that could have been a problem that worked out okay was whether to have wine with the ham and turkey. Traditionally we always served a nice Gewürztraminer from the Alsace -- it always seemed to go so well with the traditional flavors of the holiday. We talked it over and agreed that it would be impossible to never be exposed to drink, and as Charlie said, "I'll just have to learn how to suck it up."

It worked out fine. The ones that usually drank the wine, except for Charlie and I, drank it quite naturally. I didn't have any just to show Charlie my support for him. A week later he took some clients to lunch and knew what kind of wine they liked so he just ordered it. I was so proud of him.

During the Christmas season Charlie worked with Father Bob and a friend of his, a Salvation Army minister. He would go around to soup kitchens, special parties for children, anywhere he could be useful and help out with a Santa Claus costume on.

"June, it is so nice to go around in a clean outfit," he laughed one night. He was now very meticulous about cleanliness and dressing nicely. He had continued with his exercise program and none of his old clothes fit him any more.

One night he didn't have time to change so he got the idea of showing up still dressed as Santa Claus and surprise Carla. He would just ask her what she wanted for Christmas. Well, she's the one that surprised us.

"Santa Daddy, I don't want anything. You're home again and there's nothing I prayed for more." She threw her arms around him and tried to squeeze him to death. It turned into a hug fest and we were closer together as a family that night than ever before.

I had given up on Charlie but he hadn't given up on himself!

Tomorrow, The Next Day, And All The days To Come, One Day At A Time -- Charlie

I was much more comfortable now -- I was better able to live with who I had been and who I was now. One thing I hadn't done was stand up at my weekly AA meeting and tell them my story. I just had never felt ready. Finally, the first meeting after the holidays, I knew it was time.

In the pizza place meeting room I stood up and looked at everyone. I made eye contact and gave each of them a brief nod.

"Hi, I'm Charlie and I'm an alcoholic. This is my story ... "