Take the Long Way Home…
I can say growing up I always took the longest way home I could. Back in the day before cell phones, I could hear my mom and dad yelling about ½ a mile from the house everytime. That was of course after they called Allison C’s home phone telling me to come home.
I was a free spirit and bucked authority probably every chance I got.
I grew up in my pre-teens listening to Chicago, Fleetwood Mac, Suppertramp, and Bee Gees to name just a few. I was your gypsy in the mirror dancing with Stevie Nicks and then pretending I was on the disco floor with John Travolta and Night Fever doing the hustle moves that were spot on I would say, even today. This is the music dad introduced me to and I still love them all today. I can still remember riding my bike home and felt so free. I remember the sand dunes that we played on, our tree house, and the swimming pool in which I thought Jaws was in after we all watched the movie. I remember the porch swings on Sundays for coffee with mema and papa, and pulling weeds before I could go play on the weekend. I remember Easter Egg hunts, baseball games, and literally thousands of “talks” . I was sitting on the corner of the couch while he sat in the chair to slow me down or restrict me.. I remember the time I was trying to surprise my dad probably around age 10 and “wax” the truck. Well, it wasn't wax. I think it may have been shoe polish. The surprise was on me. I remember the game room and friends from school always being welcomed.. To have that time back...To just go back..
I remember the vacations and the Station wagon. I remember the big white container attached to the top of the station wagon to hold all our luggage that mom packed so precisely. National Lampoon Moments for sure…
The song by Supertramp...Long way home…
I remember the first time I heard it, sitting in the back of the stationwagon headed down south for a family vacation…I remember singing that song over and over again. Never knew the words or rather lyrics, just knew the chorus. I remember the back door of the station wagon was so cool. I remember the window rolling down and singing along with the music being played. Now, I couldn’t catch a tune to save my life but the freedom of singing, with the window rolled down in the back of that station wagon and not a care in the world...Take me back…
Long Way Home….
I remember Time seeming to go by so slow. Just not fast enough for me for sure. I wanted to be older, so I can be gone longer. I look back and want to go back. I want a do over.
I want to rewind and take the short way home.
It was never a secret I was the handful of all the children.. I always came in past curfew, bucked authority, came in as the drunken pumpkin and the list could go on...I was the gray hairs on my parents and possibly mema and papa’s heads too.
I have truly never questioned my childhood. I just thought my parents were too strict and most of the time didn’t listen or understand me. What teenager doesn’t?
Time, I want it back.
I want my learners permit back, I want Fireside Ct. back, I want my treehouse back, I want the cult de sac in Kings Point back. I want Allison’s bedroom back where we listened to Chicago’s greatest hits ,I want my youth group back, in which I will be forever grateful for dad introducing me to Jesus, my savior. I want my early cheerleading practices back where I got to go to Hardee’s after with my dad. I want my job at Champs Sports Shop back where dad used to come buy something from me weekly to make me look good as a sales rep. I want my sleepovers back, I want back what I tried to make go by so fast.
I want to rewind and take the short way home…
Our brains are so powerful by the way, if you didn't already know. When we are younger our brain chooses to suppress the bad to protect our bodies against the stress and physical pain that it could cause. Childhood trauma can be different for everyone. Sometimes those traumas to a kid come from a parent trying to just figure out how to deal and be the best parent that they can be.
For all the blame I placed on my parents directly or indirectly I look now and I see a lot clearer. What happened in my childhood that was bad or the times my imagination or more my perception of it to be bad, I couldn’t control. What I carried on into adulthood, it is my responsibility to process, to handle and to get help with. For over 20 years it was always everyone else’s fault. It was because of this or because of that or because of them..
It was never my fault. Right? (True Sarcasm)
I wish I would have taken the short way home and stayed closer..
My sponsor has had to tell me several times over these past few years that I can't go back, I can't make up for lost time and I have to let go of shame and guilt. I have to live in the NOW, the PRESENT the GIFT from GOD.
I huff and cry and know this..
I just wish for all these years I would have taken the short way home.
Lately, the tears have flowed almost every day. Relationships take 2 people, not 1.
I keep reminding myself of this.
Family is what we make it. Our childhood helps make us who we are today, along with trials and tribulations that we face whether self inflicted or not.
Life is a process and just know we can never give back yesterday, we live in today, the present which is the gift.
I have come to not only believe, but strongly suggest Inner Child Work is most necessary for Recovery. This work is a lengthy process but worth more than diamonds for self healing. For me personally it has changed my trajectory with emotions that I now feel in Recovery. (Which for any newbies in recovery, feelings and emotions are scary as hell when we stop the numbing)
I sat across from an old friend in the late Spring of 2019. God already knew why I was there. I truly believe I needed to hear him tell me, you have to let it go, you have to make things right, You don't want any regrets..(Thank you Matt) .
For the past 3 years I have watched a struggle I only knew existed with others. I have seen the disease of Parkinson’s and Dementia take over the man I have called dad my whole life. I have seen the inside of nursing homes and cried as I left the memory care as he wanted to come with me before he was bedridden.
I made a commitment when I began my Recovery to be there for my Family, no matter the fears I struggled with from shame and guilt of not being worthy to be part of.. I learned that my ego does not get to control my thoughts anymore, especially when I allow God in, I let God in and allow my higher power to renew and allow myself to be present in the NOW.
I share the above to say this..
Recovery has given me so many beautiful gifts. Restoration,permission to love myself, learning and embracing forgiveness beginning with myself. Most important that We Embrace the opportunity when it presents itself for rejuvenation of relationships that were torn and tattered from this disease of addiction.
I “Just for today” live in recovery And truly embrace one day at a time that I have on this earth.
I would encourage us all to Take the Short Way Home and get back to healing. We have only today to make memories….Thank you God!
Remember this in closing,
“It doesn't matter what you have done, what matters is what you choose to do from here”
Dad, Thank you for what you did for me & what you did not do for me.
I am stronger because of it all. I am grateful for the long talks, and healing..especially over the past few years. You are healed and are at peace and for that I am truly grateful for.