DRINKING ALCOHOL TAUGHT ME HOW TO FLY
THEN IT TOOK AWAY THE SKY

Thursday, April 9, 2009

BE TRUE TO YOURSELF!


To Thine Own Self Be True:


A farm boy was so quiet that his girl friend, after five years of courtship, decided that he was never going to propose to her and that she would have to take the initiative.


One day when they were sitting alone in the garden, she said to him, "John, let's get married. Shall we get married, John?"

A long silence followed . Finally, John said, "Yes."

Another long silence. Finally the girl said, "Say something, John. Why don't you say something?"

"I'm afraid I've said too much already!"

--A De Mello, Heart of the Enlightened, p 129

__________________________________________________

THINGS I DO NOT EVER WANT TO TELL YOU
and probably should not have

Went to confession tonight, but I won't tell you what I said.
My wife reads these blogs.

I've never been in a therapist's office...sober.

I was a heavy-duty consumer of chemical comfort.
Pills, that is.
During the last two years of my drinking.
Up and Down. Up and Down.
I came to not know "up" from "down".
Now I SURE don't know up, from down.
That's what my friends tell me.

I dye my whiskers.
Very Lightly, brown.
Got tired of Brown on top, White on chin.
Brown and White do not go together.
BLUE and White look fine.
Maybe Blue Lips (Pam?), and White hair, beard.

Once I killed a sick cat.
With my bare hands.
It was not easy.
I was drunk.
I was age fourteen.
My hands were bloody.
My blood.

Pilot made forced landing on our farm.
He promised to take me for a short ride.
My parents gave permission.
I was up and dressed, on time.
Behind the orchard, plane was gone.
My mother had fed the pilot breakfast.
They had all lied to me.
I was age eleven.
I've still not forgotten.

Another time, I was promised a Jeep.
In 1947. Jeeps cost $ 400.
For my fourteenth birthday.
I had Ohio restricted license to drive for farm.
They gave me the Jeep.
It was 1.5 inches in length.
It sat under my cereal bowl.
Happy Birthday!
I was not hungry.
I sobbed privately behind the horse barn.
I learned to break promises.
I learned to hate.

I was in love (really!) at age five.
It lasted seven years.
I've always been in love.
Always with a girl.
Always with a pretty girl.
Once with a wealthy girl.
Stupid me. I could not say "Yes!"

I've been married four times.
Not counting the 12-hour marriage.
Stupid me. I said, "Yes!"
Bartender was the celebrant for that.
Everyone was drunk. At 12 midnight.
Honeymoon and marriage ended next day.
At 12 noon.
I tried to get an annulment.
She wanted alimony!
We had known each other for 13 hours.
It was "True Love!"
Anna is number four. Lucky number for me.
Anniversary # 18 is in May.

I want some material things.
I want a laptop, my specs.
I want a Blackberry phone, etc.
Don't know what Anna wants.
I have not asked her.
I'm afraid.
Afraid it will NOT be 'material something'.

Never do I sleep enough.
Usually I'm a BIG procrastinator.
But I AM going to bed.
Now!

And, you all DO know by now, that I love you and the God I 'see' in you, and the Spirit which moves you and me--to stay sober today. No Matter What!

In LOVE and service,
Sincerely,
Steve E.



20 comments:

Prayer Girl said...

I think I've heard most of these, BUT...........

Killing a cat with bare hands...I can't imagine

Promised a jeep - got a miniature - CRUEL!

Afraid I'll want something NOT material.....SAD!

Prayer Girl

dAAve said...

Fantastic!
That has inspired me to include something on my post for tomorrow.

Just Be Real said...

Thursday greetings to you dear one!
I love your raw emotional truthful spirit! Thank you so much for your conitnual realness, despite the pain of what life has to offer you at times.
Blessings and hugs to you sir!

Mary Christine said...

The cruel things that people do and call humor. It is an awful thing to do to a child.

Ed G. said...

Steve - nicely said...

I think we all feel better now...

Blessings and aloha...

Shadow said...

a 12-hour marriage.... wow.

Cat said...

thanks for this little glimpse into you - I got the giggles as well as the shudders and I still love your honesty and openess!

Mike Golch said...

great opening of your self.thank you for sharing this with us.

Gabriella Moonlight said...

There is just so much here to comment on in our lives. The things we do and the things done to us when we are young ... being at the expense of others is a hard place to be no matter how old we are...

love to you,
G

Kristin H. said...

The one about the plane and the Jeep made me very sad. I can identify fully with that kind of disappointment. Go get yourself a laptop. You'll be glad you did.

Syd said...

Thanks for this honest stuff. All that you write is but this really touched me. The jeep and the plane and the cat were all sad things. I think that you deserve a plane ride and a $400 jeep, plus the other things that you listed.

vicariousrising said...

I absolutely adore this post, Steve. Your honesty took my breath away and my heart broke a little for the you were.

vicariousrising said...

PS with all your wives and the talk about dying your beard, I may need to dub you Bluebeard, like the notorious pirate. ;)

Zanejabbers said...

Blue Lips? Hmmmmmmmmmm. With rhinestones I'm sure. (Ha!) Interesting stuff. I identified with the disappointments and being short changed. Good Ole #4. Stop! Me thinks you got a keeper.

judith ellis said...

This is such a beautiful post, Steve! Thank you for these words. Words matter.

Lou said...

I can identify with the "jokes" that were actually very cruel in childhood. A German experience perhaps?

Pam said...

fyi-poked fun at you on my blog tonite ;)

Selchie said...

This a great post, I see you parents and mine share a similar sense of humour.)

and you've picked some of it up yourself, love the alimony bit.)

Always had a sneaking suspicion you're a poet...

Jess Mistress of Mischief said...

I'm glad I'm not the only one who killed a sick animal, I know that sounds bad, but sometimes you just need to know you're not alone.

It didn't come up on my first inventory. Did now... I guess it's because a friend showed me the way.

I wanted it not to be scared and miserable and alone, like me. I wanted it to be better, unlike me. I shot it 6 times because I was afraid it would feel something still.

I'll bet your wife wants nothing from you that is not of love.

Jess Mistress of Mischief said...

The day I shot the raccoon, I also thought about killing myself...the gun felt powerful, I didn't. Glad God was working for me then too.