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Between Families Between Families
reviews: 5
ratings: 8 (avg rating 4.75)

Friday, January 21, 2011

I find myself praying lately. Which is weird because I don't really believe in god. I don't believe with any sort of certainty that there is NO god, but I tend to think there isn't one. I can get behind the idea of goodness. And I can get behind there being a possibility of a force of goodness. Maybe that's god. Or something.

Either way, I've found myself praying. Here and there. It started at an AA meeting. My dad's been in AA for 18 years now. In AA birthday years, he can vote. That's quite an accomplishment. And the way he keeps a hold on that sobriety thing that's so important for everything else in his life, is by continuing to be active in the program. And sometimes I go to meetings with him. I went most recently to a meeting with him on New Year's.

At the beginning of an AA meeting there's a moment of silence for those still suffering in the throes of alcohol. I held a client out to the forces of goodness in that moment. Which is like praying, I guess. Then there's the prayers at the end.

That client went into the hospital shortly thereafter. This morning he died.

I remember being at an AA meeting with my dad when I was in high school and them talking about alcohol killing you. I thought you died in alcohol related car accidents or maybe from moving on to other drugs and overdoses or drug related crimes or something. At the time, I didn't think of how alcohol can literally just kill you. Your organs. Liver, brain, dead. and there you go.

But it does happen. It wasn't surprising that this man died. The level of alcoholism... well, it just wasn't surprising.

But over the past few weeks, I've spent some time with this man's mother. And I'm heartbroken for this 77 year old woman who is stuck in a small mountain town, making arrangments to bury her barely 50 year old son. I'm heartbroken for his sister who lost a big brother. Someone she probably once looked up to. I'm sad for his dog who didn't care that he was a drunk and smelled funny, just loved him anyway.

I'll hold my own son tonight and hope that he didn't get that gene. I'll pray the swedish prayer I say to him at night to no one in particular. I'll pray for goodness to help save him and me from such a sad ending.

Gud som haver barnen kär
se till mig som liten är.
Vart jag mig i världen vänder
står min lycka i Guds händer.
Lyckan kommer, lyckan går,
den Gud älskar, lyckan får.

Amen

2 comments:

Tammy said...

Amen to your Amen. And I'm so sorry about your client.

Lora said...

horrible. but I hear you on the praying thing. I do this weirdo thing where I try to gather good energy into my core and then I hug my son and jam all the good energy into his core.

I guess it's like praying.