Tuesday, July 5, 2011


     Fear is a short little four letter word that has such large implications that I don't think the human race has fully been able to comprehend its meaning.
     Today my mom went to a hospital hundreds of miles away for a very serious, life endangering surgery and I had to stay behind to make sure my dad was taken care of.  I have always been the main caregiver of my entire family from the time I was old enough to carry a wet wash cloth to the sick bed of whoever was sick.  I have been the confidante for secrets and confessions that most priests don't even want to hear.  When my step grandfather was so drunk he couldn't walk across the floor,  as a child I would sit beside him on the floor and wipe the vomit from his face until he slept it off enough to be helped to the bed.   I remember being called 'little momma' from a very early age because I was such a care taker.   I don't remember having a fulfillment or enjoyment from the care-taking, but I do remember having thoughts of, 'if I don't do it, who will?'
     When my grandmother and great grandmother both became ill from the effects of breast cancer, other family members tried to persuade my mom to have them both admitted to nursing homes.  However, I took it as another call for 'little momma' to come home and take care of the family once again.  I moved home and gave my life to them for four years but I don't regret it because I have fond memories that no other family will ever have.  I learned of stories and adventures that no other family member will ever be able to experience first hand.  Both my grandmothers died within a month and 3 days of each other.  My great grandmother 'Granny' was buried on this day in 1996.  A month and 3 days later, Grandma LeMerle was buried right next to her.  Today my mother went into the hospital many miles from me and I feel so very helpless right now.
     Fear overtook me and I turned to the only thing that has been able to calm my fears for a long time.  Yes, I heard the calming voice of alcohol once again.  I only had one drink and it was enough to quiet my fears down.  But, then I had another fear of someone finding out so I put water in the bottle hoping to hide my slip up.  But, when my husband came in to fix his drink of the day...well, you can guess the rest of the story.  Even though I wasn't drunk or even feeling the effects of the liquid, that one drink which was supposed to quiet my fears opened up the doorway to my husband's fears.  His fear of seeing me back in the condition I once was.
      All the wounds that have been healed over the course of the last few months, were re-opened with one drink and the lie of trying to hide it.   All because of FEAR.
      Honestly, I have feared this day for a long time.  I understand why when someone goes in for detox and recovery that they are kept away from the general population for a length of time.  It's not to keep them away from people so much as it is to keep them away from the 'call of the drink'.   You always hear it, but when it's not right in your house and right in your sights you have time to re-think your actions before answering the call.    
      FEAR of loosing my mother, FEAR of letting the family down, FEAR of never being enough, FEAR FEAR FEAR!!!!!     FEAR of being mis-understood!!!