SAVE A SEAT FOR THE KIDS

I was in a funk… think'n it was in '93; I was sitting in the furthest recesses of the hall, in my rickety chair, balancing on two legs, tripping-out on the smoke signals coming off my cig in the ashtray next to the candle, drifting up, like my thoughts... integrating into the collective alcoholic abyss of Twelve-Step folklore—

—Stark raving sober, sit'n on my hands, knee bouncing-beating like a hummingbirds heart… think' 'oh God please don't let them call on me tonight… I'm too bent to talk, and I just can't cry tonight.'

Candlelight meeting' at Wanda' were notoriously entertaining and unpredictable, I hold a high-degree in combat sobriety from that Hall alone.

It was a hot summer night, I was mulling over the stupid shit I invented in my head at the time, to make life as complicated as possible... where I'm comfortable and yet, still reaching for solace.

I like the candlelight meetings, things get very real in the middle of the night…candid and brutally honest, when the ghost won't let you sleep, and everywhere you go feels haunted… dead, 'cept those dim-lit candle-light meetings in the middle of the night, in the middle of the storms, in the middle of nowhere, hunkered-down with the rest of the lost souls.

There is indeed refuge in the Twelve Step Program.  To be with like minded weirdo's stirring up ghost…'round tables,  in canting-enchanting stories, to exercise the demons near and far in the wee hours of morning.

The wisdom, dear God, the wisdom.

My attention was jacked to a particular elder sober yapping his flap. As clear as a Vodka I could hear him say—
"you'll damn well better be saving a seat for your kids around these table's." —I have no recall of what he said afterword…small wonder that is, but that statement slammed into my head like a wreaking-ball run'n riot.

I thought about my sons; I got three of them within three years, from two different mothers, I know right… but anyway, It just struck me so profoundly. Jesus Christ…. if my boys have this alcoholic gene… it's going to take them down the same road as it had me. I could not shake the feeling, it still resonates in my heart, like one of those things you put in the garden to make the moles go away… buzzes every so often, to protect the garden.

There is no way to express the magnitude of gratitude of being one of 'those alcoholic crazy dads' who' been given such privilege, honor, the Gift of being able to raised his babies sober, in, and under the umbrella of the Twelve Step Program, and its principals from birth hitherto. A sober alcoholic… teaching his kids about 'sobriety,' meaning; 'soundness of mind-body-soul.

Not that I did it well, but the nuts and bolts of it, I passed it on, like I was told by my elder statesman, and grateful for the instruction.

All of my children have sat in many an 'open' meeting with me when they were young. They went to routine functions, get together' with me. I adopted this way of life for myself, and for my children, unbeknownst to them, with intention, early on and as recent as up to couple years ago—

—I took my eldest girl to a A.A. meeting with me while back, she fit like hand and glove, I didn't know whether to be more terrified she's a drunk or black-belt codependent. But the fact she fit in as well as she did... echoed louder than thunder. She knows the 'language of the heart,' its people, and they know her.'  Savvy acid test for those wondering just how much influence recovery has on your kids.
 
Alcoholism is a progressive, generational illness, Recovery is a progressive generational healer. In the past thirty years I have made many mistakes, many corrections. One thing is certain, Recovery has been central theme in my life. It's a way of life that feels, at times, very foreign… alienating perhaps. What I may laugh at with humility, may make and ordinary earthling cringe or a sailor blush.

My children are growing, changing, learning hard lessons like the rest… I get to wondering sometimes if they're looking at their moral compass' and maps I gave them early on, to navigate.

As a parent you hope those tools of life; received so freely,  given so freely— training for life, in spite of your own imperfections as a parent, a human being— work for them down the line, and it is pure joy when you see its reality unfold.

The wisdom I received in that candlelight meeting decades ago, from One person sharing their story, their wisdom… so freely given, made a huge impact on my life, maybe for generations of my children.

So, yes, "save a seat for the kids around the table."

pek