So he sat there and talked about his 30 years of sobriety.. the dark days and the dangers of complacency or “resting on your laurels” and the guy next to him (clearly drunk) interrupts and caterwauls loudly: “yethhhh ithhhhhh goood to remember not to retht….” and the subject being “complacency” the older gentleman (who had been speaking) leans over to the guy and says “Pal. I’m glad you’re here, but YOU smell like complacency to me.”
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Strollerderby has been going through some growing pains of late, but I feel like we’re settling into a good routine. As usual, I’m completely inspired by the talent of my fellow writers… This summarizes some of the funniest pieces from last week. Thanks to Jessica, I’ve realized black latex leggings are the new MomJeans….Meowwwwww!!
#18
Is what I call a “push present“….
One thing about going to meetings with other people in recovery, you certainly are given plenty of food for thought. Sometimes it’s a bit much, but then it’s leavened with laughter and hearty joking and all is well again. There was much discussion last night about one of my greatest challenges as a mom: fighting the tendency to protect my kids from all pain and anguish. Since I can’t even bear it when they say they’re hungry (for the fifth time after they declare their dislike for dinner), I have a long slog on this one…
Last night a woman shared her recent news: the father of her kids (who are in their young 20’s) has recently been diagnosed with brain cancer and has only weeks to live. She shared the hell of watching her children grieve and being unable to take the pain away. I sat there completely immobilized by fear. If I cannot stand watching the girls get their feelings hurt, how would I ever bear something this terrible? Nothing like borrowing trouble to keep one in a constant state of anxiety and angst.
One of the seasoned codgers weighed in with this gem: We are here not to protect people from their pain, but to help them sort through it. To love them and support them on their journey — but not to take that journey away from them. And I felt my shoulders drop, took a deep breath, and thought “yes.”
I drank too much and too often largely to kill off all the huge feelings — the unmanageable feelings of motherhood — personhood — and it’s a common story in the Halls of these meetings. Sensitive people cannot stand what life presents them, so they slowly try and douse the emotions –not realizing they’re also making joy and happiness impossible as well.
Looking around the rooms at the faces and listening to the stories, I’ve never felt so included… so represented by similarly afflicted spongy hearted wanderers.
What about you? What’s your philosophy of protecting your loved ones? Karen asks this question over at Strollerderby today
#15
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Meanwhile, have you checked out the League of Maternal Justice yet?
