Will Isabella Become a Vampire?

I finished reading book three of the Twilight series this afternoon.  Each book has been much the same with the first 3/4th’s of the book being vampire romance and character development and introspection.  Each book concludes with a grand and sweeping action sequence of vampire fights.  I can see why guys just weren’t captivated by these books.  They are incredibly slow and filled with romance.  That said, there is something endearing about them.  I can almost find myself falling in love with Edward, the central vampire in the book and Bella’s lover.   He is so appealing.  I will start book four tomorrow afternoon after I grow tired of fiddling with the Internet and my computer.  Also, tomorrow, I hope to swing by the library to find copies of Anne Rice’s vampire books.  It’s a vampire themed reading month here at Andrew’s. 

 

Malice…

An attorney friend contacted me today warning me of how easily it was to find my father and his pharmacy on the Internet.  Apparently, an anonymous commenter said they were going to report my father (I missed this comment).  I assume it was to report him giving me medications un-prescribed.  I assure you, the only medications I am taking are prescribed either by my psychiatrist or my brother and sister.  I am prescribed, by Dr. Kern, extra Risperdal and Klonopin to take in emergencies.  Dad long ago learned his lessons about such things running a pharmacy for 30 years.  He dots his I’s and crosses his T’s.  Thank you to the concerned and caring friend who is an attorney.  I thank you from the bottom of my heart for contacting me and looking out for me and the blog. 

Her Royal Highness at Rest…

Hesitant to Get Excited…

I’m no stranger to addictions.  I’ve known many personally during my lifetime. I know how hard they can be to quit. Well, George told me last night that he was going to stop drinking. Imagine my shock and also my wary nature came into play.  Could George actually stop?

“Momma started crying hysterically last night when I came home drunk and pissed all over myself,” George had told me.  “I broke her heart.  I am going to quit!”

“Don’t do it alone and don’t do it for your mother. Do it for yourself,” I told him. “Get some help. Go to detox and they will help you get through the first week of quitting. You will get rest, good food, and medications.”

George told me he was going to lean on me for awhile and that I would see a lot of him in the next few weeks.  I was elated!  I want my friend to be okay and to be over here with me during this hard time!

George was a very heavy drinker.  He’s going to have the shakes and it is going to be very hard.  If he could just make it through the nightmare that is the first few weeks then I think he will be okay.  I am hesitant to get excited, but I remain hopeful.  I am going to do what I can to help my friend even if it means going to AA all the time again.   If I can just convince the completely unreligious George to go. 

Need Advice…

I am hyper sensitive to the DCMA (Digital Copyright Management Act) these days.  I had downloaded some movies, but deleted them all when I got paranoid about lawsuits.  Mom’s been letting me rent them these days with gift cards at a local movie rental store.  I also took down my “mp3 of the day” feature of the blog just to be careful.  It is just not worth it.

Well, I found a location to download all 700 episodes of the National Public Radio show Hearts of Space.  I’ve really been into ambient music.  The shows are 32 Gigabytes and would take about five days to download.  Since the show is publicly funded, would I be breaking the copyright act by downloading?  Anyone have any expertise in this area?  I won’t download them if it is breaking the law.  I just need advice.  What do you think?  Should I err on the side of caution?

Sleep, Wonderful Sleep…

“What’s worrying you?” my psychiatrist asked yesterday upon telling him I have terrible insomnia these days.

I thought for a long second.

“My computer,” I finally replied. “Dad ordered me a new 2 Terabyte hard drive and it still hasn’t come in.  I am very anxious about it.”

My psychiatrist smiled telling me how much he loves to work on his home computers as well.  “A man of my own heart,” I thought.

“I’m hesitant to prescribe any more medications,” he told me. “You are already on so many.  I am going to give you some relaxation CDs and I want you to listen to them before bed.”

I was extremely dubious of these CDs.  I scoffed internally.  How can a mere compact disc of a lady talking and music help you sleep eight hours?  I was wrong.  I put a CD in my stereo before bed, undressed, climbed in my covers, and slept for eight hours in the first time for weeks.  I woke up feeling so good!

My hard drive came last night.  I was so excited to get it installed.  It only took around five minutes, but it took an hour to backup all my files.  Now I have some peace of mind that all my files are mostly duplicated and protected.

Ya Gotta Love My Mother…

My psychiatrist today told me to try and drink unsweetened tea instead of sodas.  Well, I took it to heart and told mom to get me two gallons of tea.  She bought six!!!!  I have no room for all of them in my fridge once I got them inside!  Like mother like son.  We are so obsessive compulsive.  Does she even remember tea has caffeine as well?  Tea party at Andrew’s! LOL

Our Snow Potential Tomorrow…

I live squarely in the 1 to 2 inch range and we often have more when they forecast this.  Woo Hoo!

Parallels…

If someone had cancer, would you berate them for their lot in life?  Would you laugh and cajole when they couldn’t get out of the bed or feed themselves properly?   Would you write them disparaging comments when they could no longer handle the daily tasks of life all of us take for granted?  You would be shamed into submission by your peers.  Why is this not true for mental illness?  My negative anonymous comments are an example of this.  They probably wouldn’t get on a blog written by a lung cancer patient and write, just go ahead and die already!

Thus is the stigma of mental illness.  Many times mental illness is seen as a defect of character.  Oh, he’s just lazy, or he’s just willfully dependent on his parents.  He’s got it easy.  He doesn’t want to work or support himself.  George might drink and be dysfunctional, but he is a man supporting himself!  George doesn’t have a chemical and neurological imbalance and misfiring in his brain.  He just has an addiction which can be remedied most of the time.    

People with schizophrenia have a malfunctioning brain just like cancer patients have cells dividing uncontrollably.  Cancer patients have chemo and I have Risperdal Consta.   Cancer can go into remission and then suddenly reemerge just like my own condition.  Why are illnesses of the brain taken so lightly?  So many mentally ill people are scorned by their families and friends and fall into disparaging conditions such as homelessness, isolation, mental wards, and assisted living homes.  People rally around loved ones with cancer, support them, and do what is needed to see they have the proper medical treatment.  A lot of money and time is poured into finding cures and treatments for cancer.

I will be the first to admit I am a lot like a child, but I am also smart, cunning, and vibrant – full of life – damned to this seeming duality of existence.  Many brilliant people had or have a mental illness. John Forbes Nash anyone?   I sometimes wish I was of their lot – my more positive aspects outweighing the stigma of mental illness. 

We are also such extremely socially structured creatures and this can escape people with mental illness.  I think this is one of the hardest things to deal with when concerning people with mental illness.  The Homeless Guy is a glaring example of this.  He is completely dependent upon others for his well being and he very clearly has a mental illness. He is also brilliant.  No one has received more derision than he as far as a blogger goes.  It has almost made him stop writing publicly.  And I believe it’s because he just doesn’t grasp the socially acceptable norms of life – of working, of raising a family, of being responsible, of social etiquette.    This scares and confuses people.  The very tenants of the fabric of our society are not being met by one of our own.  So what do we do?  We kick him when he’s down, not helping to lift him up.  We laugh.  We cajole.  We write disparaging anonymous comments on his blog telling him what a lout he is.  We show our true selves and thus lose part of our humanity in the process.

Excellent Article on Schizophrenia…

This is one of the more informative and accurate articles on schizophrenia that I have read.  Kind of like a FAQ for layman on the same.  Please give Suzane’s website a  visit and have a read for yourself.

10 Myths About Schizophrenia

Let’s All Pile On…

It’s only been a day since I’ve been recovering from my close call with my mental illness.  I was sitting here yesterday obsessing over the supposed snow we are getting when my psychiatrist’s office called.

“Just wanted to remind you you have an appointment with Dr. Kern in the morning at 8 AM,” she said perkily.

“Fuck!” was the exact word I muttered after hanging up.  Sorry to sensitive eyes and ears!

I called dad and he wasn’t too happy about it.  He had forgotten as well.

“I was hoping to have a day off,” he told me sounding disappointed.

I told him to look on the bright side.  We could get some of those delectable sausage biscuits at Hardee’s afterwards in the morning.  

I plan on talking to my psychiatrist about my insomnia.  I can only sleep around 3 or 4 hours at a time then I am up for 8 hours or more.  I feel tired all the time.  Maybe he will give me something to take to solve this little problem (joy!). 

On top of that tomorrow, I have to go buy groceries and I dread it immensely.  I am thinking of just getting twenty cans of Chef Boyardee for $20 dollars and a few jugs of Milo’s sweet tea and calling it quits.  Mom will have a fit, though -  saying that is a terrible diet and that I need some kind of vegetables and fruits.  

It’s Like Discarding an Old Friend…

How Big of a Boy are Ya?

“He’s a big boy today,” dad told Tim, his home health care supervisor, laughing jovially in his characteristic way.

Tim normally picks me up and takes me to get my shot.  I felt well enough this morning to drive myself after taking an extra Risperdal at five.  I feel 100% percent better than I did yesterday with all the medication.  

Well, I turned beet red.  I was embarrassed by what dad had said.  There is an unwritten rule not to talk publicly about my condition.  The store was packed with early risers and many turned to look dad said it so loudly.

Tim smiled kindly. “Go get you some cokes,” he said.  We have often talked on our drives about dad limiting the amount I drink.  He knows I love them.

Well, I made it and now let’s hope for two more good weeks.  I’ve got my fingers crossed.  I don’t want the good times to end. 

Frosty Cold!

My Windows this Morning at 15 Degrees…

Scrumptious Cornbread…

Everybody’s cornbread is different it seems.  Dad’s cornbread can be kind of dry and he uses low fat buttermilk.  Don’t get me wrong.  It’s good, just not as good as Helen’s, Mrs. Florene’s, or Charlie’s wife. Helen’s cornbread is like cake.  She adds a couple of tablespoons of sugar to the batter and it rises very high like biscuits.  It is so soft and fluffy. Mrs. Florene’s cornbread is rich and heavy – the Bavarian style buttermilk making it very fattening and filling.  Charlie's wife’s cornbread is very crunchy on the outside and on the crust.  I like this and she has the better cornbread of the four.  The best cornbread I have ever tasted was my own mother’s when she was allowed to cook.  Mom would get the iron skillet and oil smoking hot.  The batter would sizzle so loudly when she poured it in that you could hear it throughout the house.  This made the cornbread soft on the inside and very crunchy on the outside.  I wonder if she could still make it?  I will have to get her over to my house out of under dad’s ever watchful gaze and let her try!

The Florene Express…

George called tonight and I told him I was feeling mentally ill.  I am candid with George about my mental illness.  Well, Mrs. Florene thought a good meal would help me.  Bless!  George ran it by an hour ago.  The turnip greens and black eyed peas are left over from New Year’s.  The fried porkchop and cornbread were divine.  Friends make the world go round and I do feel better after some good ole soul food.  Mrs. Florene also sent me some ham salad not pictured and a gallon of her sweet tea. 

I Just Can’t Take It!

“You are going to have to call and cancel the appointments,” I just told mom.

Mom sat down on my couch and looked flabbergasted.  “I hate that,” she said solemnly as she looked so worried.  “What am I going to tell Rhonda?”

“Tell her we are sick and you know that’s the truth,” I replied. “I just can’t make it. I can’t take all that today.  I don’t want any complications.  I just want to read and stay quiet to calm my mind.”

Mom left running all over the curb in front of my house.  I sighed and will await her to get home.  I will call in a few minutes and make sure she arrived okay and is back in the bed.  Complicated are lives are as Yoda would say.  I feel so terrible for doing that to mom.  Appointments are so important to her.  She didn’t need to be doing all that as well, though.  Sometimes you just have to say, “no.”

Two Peas in a Pod…

I wanted to title this post “The Mentally Ill Duo” as that is what mom and I are these days.  We are both shaky.  I can really tell my medication has run out.  Just one more day and I will be back on track.  And mom’s mind is a jumble of frets and thoughts of keeping appointments.  Dad calls her the appointed one.  Well, I told mom I wasn’t feeling well on the phone this morning.  She immediately went into panic mode about my and her haircut this afternoon.  She is getting her hair done right before me by Rhonda.  

“I’ll pick you up at lunch and take you and you can wait on me,” she told me.

The thought of mom driving in her state and then waiting anxiously for mom to get her hair fluffed and highlighted made me cringe.

“I’ll be able to drive,” I reassured her. “I’ll be the one to pick you up at noon.”

Mom thought for a minute, a long minute, and then said, “But what if you can’t make it?  I won’t have a way to the beauty salon!  I guess I will drive, but your father will kill me if he finds out!”

I assured her it will all work out. “Trust me,” I said.  Well, it got more complicated as it often does with mom.  Mom is now driving over here very insistently right now to bring me three of her Xanax to take so my nerves will be calm enough to drive and to make it.  I just didn’t feel like driving over to get them myself.  Dad would die if he knew she was giving me medications not prescribed and that she is driving.  C’est le vie!  Such is life these days.  I probably won’t take the Xanax, but it is going to be hard to resist. 

To Go or Not to Go?

I’ve been thinking of going to AA again.  The AA meeting hall is a quarter of a mile from my house and a 15 minute walk.  If it weren’t for the dollar donation at the end of the meeting, I would probably already be going again.  I have purely selfish motives.  I want to stay sober and I want to meet like minded friends – friends above anything and all.  I realize George is not a very healthy friend to have when you are trying to be a teetotaler, but he is the only friend I have. 

My weather station reads 17 degrees right now.  Cold!  They bumped up our chances of snow from 50 percent to 60 percent Thursday night.  It is only going to get colder if we have snowpack on the ground.  Dad last night was thrilled that I knew it was the coldest it’s been since 1899.  We are such weather geeks.

Today I have to get my  haircut.   I am already nervous.  Those of you that have read me for years know that I have a phobia about getting my hair cut by a stranger or most anybody.  Charlie usually cuts my hair, but I wanted it done professionally this time, and mom’s hairdresser is wonderful.  I want to look nice and neat.     

Maggie as Sam the Sheepdog?

What Noise Doth Yonder Outside Lie?

Something was really bothering Maggie tonight.  It is 19 degrees and she had been outside barking for over an hour.  It woke me up and made me turn on the outside lights.  Here she is back on her warm blankie doing her muted cough bark routine.

Oh well, I guess it was nothing.  Back to sleep.  I just feel the need to bark sometimes. 

Charlie and Family Circa 1979…

Someone emailed me disappointed that I didn’t show much of Charlie in that video I took of him and Maggie the other night.  Well, here is the only photo I have of him and family.  Look at the glasses!

I Must Be Odd, But I Dislike Facebook…

There! I said it! I dislike Facebook. Everybody is so guarded with what they share that the whole experience is incredibly boring.  Most of my former classmates are pedestrian and milquetoast people to say the least.  Everybody leads carbon copy lives.  You’ve read one post, you’ve read twenty.  I also dislike the constant requests for hearts, hugs, smilies, fairy farts, and farmville crap.  It drives my obsessive compulsive nature to complete things crazy! Now, if Google reader could just add “like” and comments features to it’s product, then they would have a big hit on their hands.   

Intriguing…

I Make House Calls…

“Janice’s email has quit working,”  Charlie told me of his wife as he stood at my door a moment ago.  “She’s driving me crazy and told me to come get you.  I am so sorry to bother you.”

Charlie could see from the couch and quiet house that I had been taking a nap.  Power napping as I like to say.  I wasn’t bothered, though.  I assured Charlie I would be overjoyed to help.

The fix to Janice’s email problem was a simple solution.  I had it back up in just a few minutes.  When I finished, Charlie was talking on his cellphone to someone about Waterford crystal so I took a seat in the den to watch TV.  Soon, we were back on our way much to my relief.  I had started to feel anxiety as I sat there to the very loud din of the television.

“Here’s 12 Diet Cokes,” Charlie said as we stood in his garage.  “Don’t you dare tell your father, and we are going to get you something to eat.”

I grinned feverishly.  It was going to be a good afternoon. 

“Here,” he also said, handing me the keys to his new Audi. “You’re driving.”

My anxiety skyrocketed.  Driving scares me these days with my mental illness and anxiety attacks, and this was a $40,000 brand new car.  I drove fine, though.  We went to Wendy’s down in the valley and got Maggie and I a hamburger – a double w/ cheese for both of us and two fries.  Charlie got a vanilla Frosty.  “It’s better than the chocolate,” he remarked, hungrily consuming it.  I’m glad to be home, to have Diet Cokes, treat food, and for the diversion to my normal routines.  Sometimes things just work out well.  

Breakfast Bachelor Food…

It never tastes or looks as good as it does on the box.

After cooking.  Not very appetizing, huh?  I am going to make sandwiches out of the meatloaf when it cools.

Bone Shattering Cold…

As I sit here, my weather station reads nineteen degrees.  Just as they forecasted.  We are looking at a possible four inch snow event on Thursday night and Friday morning.  The forecast models are still gelling the details and you can imagine the meteorologists in the South are being cautious to announce it.  Snow in the South means pandemonium and will shut this small town down until it melts.  Those of you that have read me a long, long time can just imagine my excitement!

Mom called me very early this morning.   She’s having a very, very hard time mentally after the holidays.  “You’re mother is wild!” dad told me last night as mom was in my bathroom.  That’s the reason mom came over with dad.  He’s not letting her out of his sight till she feels better.  He’s afraid she will do something rash.  Dad’s got his hands full with me and mom, huh?

“I’m out of Diet Cokes,” mom told me on the phone this morning frantically.  “I don’t know what is wrong with me!  I am so sorry.”

My heart slumped and so did my spirits.  All morning long I have been anticipating the drive over and the joy of drinking that first can.  This is incredibly uncharacteristic of mom and shows she is not doing well.  She normally doles out my cokes and keeps cases stocked with a Nazi like tenacity.

“You go back to bed,” I told her. “You are going to wake dad and he is exhausted after Christmas and working yesterday.  Don’t worry about it.  You need to rest.  Take your Xanax.”

I hung up the phone and settled back into my morning routine of listening to audiobooks as I toodled around the web on my computer.   The phone then rang again.

“I found seven Coke Zeros in the fridge in the basement,” mom told me excitedly.  “I will leave them on the porch!”

My spirits lifted.  I hung up the phone and exclaimed, “YES!”  Mom had saved the day.   I was going to do a little video called “The Journey for Coke Zero”, but had second thoughts when I thought of driving while taking a video.  And you think George’s incessant drinking and driving was bad.  This post will have to suffice.  I hope you all have a wonderful Sunday.

A Progression of Dawn…

   

Maggie and Parents Gone Wild!

Cheryl Has a New Template…

My good and one of my longest blogging friends Cheryl has a new template after years of having the same one.  She surprised me and I was overjoyed to upload it for her after she picked one she liked.  I really appreciated her trusting me with her password and username – that’s a blogging friend for ya.  Stop by and tell her what you think of it!  I think you find her a good blog to stop in every few days and to read.  She mainly writes about her daily life much like me.  

Cheryl's LaDeDa

Gone with the Wind…

I finished Margaret Mitchell’s Gone with the Wind.  A fascinating and captivating book.  On to Scarlet now which mom says is really good.  Mom didn’t like the Twilight books so brought them by to me since I’ve seen two of the movies and loved them.  I’m already on book three, Eclipse.  It took some getting used to Stephanie Meyer’s childish prose, though, which was why mom didn’t like them. “Too hard to read,” she had told me as she handed me the bag.   I love them in their own awkward way.   Mom also brought me Robert Jordan’s complete Wheel of Time fantasy series which is twelve books.  She said if I love The Lord of the Rings then I will love this series.   I have so many books now I don’t know what to read next.  Mom is like a library.  I find myself reading a few chapters of one then moving to another for a short while for a change of pace.  It is just amazing I have the concentration and patience to read again for the first time in years.

Maggie and I have slept off and on for most of the day power napping.  I gave Maggie two whole Poptarts a few days ago and watched as she took each outside to bury them for later.  It has rained since then so imagine my joy when she brought in a soggy Poptart through the dog door that was falling apart as she carried it.  Luckily, she cleaned up after herself eating every morsel.  It was pretty gross.

Dad and I have talked several times on the phone about the weather today.  It never got above 35 degrees here today according to my wireless weather station and that is unheard of this deep in the South.  We have a hard freeze warning out for tonight (19 degrees) so I will most likely check my pipes in the basement and continue to finish putting the insulation on Charlie brought me.  I will also let an outside faucet run slightly tonight just as a precaution.  Friday it may not get out of the twenties.   We haven’t seen this kind of cold since 1899!

Late last night I was sitting at my computer as my left arm went numb.  This is a sign my medication has run out and my schizophrenia is about to act up.  My injection of Risperdal is this Tuesday and I eagerly await it.  If I can just make it a few more days, then I will be over the hill so to speak.   I also had a period of giddiness and euphoria yesterday mental illness induced.  I LOVED IT!  Food tasted better.  Smoking was ten times more enjoyable.   Listening to classical music was like an orgasm.  Do “normal” people feel this way from time to time and thus do not need drugs to feel better?  Is that why addicts are caught so firmly in the grip of substances as they lack this normal mental ability?  I don’t know, but it sure felt good.  I wouldn’t mind it happening again today if fate would so have it.  I love anything that makes me feel abnormal in a good way.  It’s my Achilles heel.  

In the Sunlight of Morning…

Will Bark for Food…

Maggie was watching me eat a couple of strawberry Poptarts.  Yes, she got some much to her relief.  Then she tore outside barking at unforeseen dangers at two in the morning!

Someone Pass the Gas…

“I think he just pooted,” my sister said  of my little 8 month old nephew, laughing as she turned to me. “It’s a stinker!  You’ve been known to poot a few times yourself!”

“Oh, Andrew can blow all of us out of the room!!!” Dad said looking at me for my reaction and laughing uncontrollably. 

My sister, the hematologist and oncologist – the doctor of internal medicine that reverts back to a silly teenager when she comes home to be with my mother and father.

I laughed.

“What have you been feeding him?” I asked as my sister checked his diaper.

“It’s good to let a good one blow sometimes,” my dad chimed in, cavorting. 

My mother started to laugh hysterically as well.  It was all so much fun.  Who thought a little baby passing gas could be so much joy?

 

**********

Choices…

I had a hard choice yesterday at lunch.  To eat my New Year’s Day meal with Mrs. Florene and George or with Charlie and his wife.  Both Janice and Mrs. Florene were awesome cooks and both were having the traditional Southern pork loin, turnip greens, and black eyed peas that so set the tone for prosperity for the next year.  The turnip greens are said to represent money and the peas coins.  The more you eat, the more prosperous you would be in the coming year.

Dad called me around eleven.  I had just taken a two hour power nap.

“We’re headed to Charlie’s.  Are you coming?”

I had made my choice.  I was spending New Year’s Day with my black family.   I wanted the ease and comfort of being around Mrs. Florene and George and the small, not large, gathering it entailed to assuage my social anxieties.  Besides, Mrs. Florene cooks a tad bit better than Janice being a old traditional Southern soul food cook. 

“I am eating with George and Mrs. Florene,” I told dad carefully, hoping he wouldn’t give me a lecture about George.

He did.

“You know I don’t like him,” dad said over the phone.  “He’s a drunkard and who knows what else he is doing!”

“He’s my friend!!!”  I replied, adamantly.

“Well, be careful,” dad said with an air of true concern. “I don’t want you succumbing.”

“I’ll be fine,” I told him casually.  “I could have had a drink a long time ago if I wanted one.”

Dad then told me not to eat too much worried about my bulimia – to disregard that old Southern myth about prosperity.   You see?  I am fine if I eat a sensible meal.   I won’t throw up.  But if I eat a lot, it triggers the bulimia something fierce.  The urge to purge is almost uncontrollable on an overly full stomach.

“Don’t forget to make room for your steak dinner tonight,” dad said in closing.

I said I would and bid him goodbye.  Soon, I was headed to my black family’s house to eat a good meal and to see what George had been up to New Year’s Eve.  It was a very good day.        

There’s Nothing More Important Than Family…

“Your hair looks pretty tonight,” dad said rubbing the back of my head as we sat on my couch. “You have hair just like my father’s.”

“Why did you do that today about the orange drink?” I asked, diverting my father’s affections.  “You carry it too far sometimes.  You and mom can both go overboard.  I have too few comforts left.”

“I’m sorry,” my father replied kindly.  “We just don’t want you to go back to the way you were.  Do you realize how far you’ve come?  You are like a different person – a completely different person.  You are the son I lost years ago.”

I sat quietly watching The Weather Channel waiting on my medications to take effect.  Dad was very, very late tonight and it was almost midnight.   I had grown so weary I was about to collapse.  I had almost given up on him and gone to bed. 

We watched as the clock on my television turned to midnight.  A huge cacophony of fireworks erupted in my neighborhood. Maggie was outside bringing in the New Year by barking her fool head off trying to protect me, dad, and the house from all the noise.   The drug dealer next door was throwing a big party and two boys were fighting drunkenly in the front yard.  I sighed. Dad chuckled.

“I love you son,” my father said, holding my hand.  “There’s nothing more important than family.  That’s why we are always going to stick by you from now on.  I will never let you go back to that monster you once were.  I promise you that from the bottom of my heart.”

A tear streamed down my face and dad wiped it off.  I’ve come so far, but it’s been hard – very hard.  You would never understand the pain on those first days I quit drinking and I wanted a drink so badly I could die.   I would never imagine making it through a New Year’s Eve sober a few years ago as well.  I realize my father means to do the best for me now.  Without his help, I would still be a drunken wretch, or even worse – a mentally ill homeless drunken wretch.

“Name two things that would make you feel better,” dad said, patting my knee after letting go of my hand.

A glimmer of  joy lit up my eyes.

“What would you like for the New Years?”

“I would love a new 2 Terabyte hard drive for my computer and a steak dinner from Barne’s,” I replied, hopeful.  I never get to shop or eat steak much and Christmas was such a boon it had whet my appetite for such things.

It all sounded so contrite and materialistic, but those were the simple two things I wanted.  I long ago ceased to make insurmountable New Year’s resolutions. 

“It’s a done deal,” dad said, smiling.  “We will go eat at Barne’s restaurant tomorrow night and I will order your hard drive.  You just promise me to stay sober and to take your medications.”

You could see the relief in dad’s eyes.  He thought I would make wishes much harder to fulfill.  Like asking for money again.  That would be impossible for him to grant at this current point in my life. 

“All I want for the New Year is for my children to be healthy and happy,” dad said before leaving as he stood up.  “I am determined you are going to be such a way.”

I stood up as well to walk him to the door.  Despite my tired weariness, I had a big grin on my face.  It has been such a good few weeks mentally and tonight with my father warmed my heart.  Dad is not very affectionate – usually hard as stone.  I bid dad goodnight and came directly in here to write this while it was fresh upon my mind.  Happy New Year’s!!!