Tag: surrender

AIDS or Alzheimer’s…remembrance with transparency


Celebrating a life as it should be…

This week, we lost a soul due to complications due to AIDS, as he was living with the HIV virus. He was in my men’s group where I receive care coordination for my own life care as someone living with the HIV virus. I only knew him from the group, but his passing touched me for many reasons. I’d like to share a little of his story to keep his memory alive.

We will call him Scott. The fact that I have to pick a false name “to protect his family” goes to show that even today, with all the progress we’ve made in the treatment of this nasty virus, there is still the need to protect people’s dignity because of the social stigma that is still out there in our society. His family chose to have contributions go to the Alzheimer’s Association, as opposed to where he received life care for this real disease. Sad, for me at least, because I really don’t think the Alzheimer’s Association did anything for Scott. Each week, he found support and camaraderie from a small circle of men who met in the basement of a non-profit organization, dedicated to those infected with HIV/AIDS.

So if you’re reading this and you’re willing, please make a contribution to your local HIV/AIDS organization in Scott’s memory.

And let me be clear – I don’t fault his family for making this choice. If we lived in a society where caring for someone with Alzheimer’s was equally respected as caring for someone with the HIV virus and/or complications from AIDS, then they could be transparent. But, we don’t…yet. So, they felt this was necessary.  I respect their decision.  I hate they had to make it…but I understand.

I’ll remember Scott for his love of music. For his love of food. For his sense of humor.

I’ll remember Scott because he was confined to a wheelchair, living in an assisted living home where we was often treated with disgust. Food would be taken from his fridge. Human excrement would be left in his bed sheets or on the floor, because the staff wasn’t willing to clean up after him. Granted, Scott was a cantankerous man who was probably difficult to live with. He sometimes made us uncomfortable in group – but he was human, alive and living with this painful, ugly disease. He felt trapped in the nursing home – a victim, perhaps by choice, but perhaps not. At least he had our support group, where he could vent and process and find support. How many people are out there who don’t have that?

I’m reminded of a song by Barbara McAfee, entitled “When I Die.” It’s given me much comfort in my living, and given me hope that I can die with grace and dignity, surrounded by friends and family.  The opening lines are:

“When I die, I know there’ll be singing
By my friends all gathered around.
As their sweet voices fade behind me,
I will join in the one great sound.
And I’ll stand on a sunset hillside
Just like I did in that dream
Join the multitude there that is singing
The song inside everything.
…
When I die I’ll fall into a hammock,
Woven of each song I’ve ever sung.
I have sent them a forward to catch me
On the day my life is done.”

When I die, I want this song played at my memorial service.

And, if I happen to die of complications due to AIDS, I want that listed in my obituary.  And I want donations made to the Damien Center, or IAIC, or Broadway UMC…or similar organizations, should I live somewhere other than Indianapolis.

I want people to know one can die with dignity from this disease, or from addiction, or from natural causes…or from a motorcycle accident.  I don’t know how I’ll go, but all of those are real possibilities, as I live life “in the grey” between the “!” and the “?”

The more we talk about it and tell our stories, the less shame and stigma there will be…

So Scott, I celebrate your life – your struggle – your smile.  May you find rest on a hammock that was prepared just for you…

Save Yourself


So I took some flack on my recent post, “Hosting a Pastry Chef: A Silver Lining from my Past.”  A mutual acquaintance of C. contacted me…and quite bluntly, I don’t trust him, or his motives.  C. had even told me in one of our last conversations before he violated his probation and went back to prison, “If he contacts you, just ignore him.  I’m sorry he’s bothering you.”

Well this individual thought my post wasn’t honest in fully disclosing all the details and specifics about my using, and that I was judging C.’s recovery/sobriety.

First, the irony of the two statements was lost on him.  He thought I was judging C’s recovery, and yet then…he turned around and “judged” my recovery.  Enough said.  I have only my HP to answer to.

Second, it was not my intention to make it sound like I was better than C., or less than.  We both are recovering addicts.  Relapse is part of my story.  The bottom line is we only have today.  And that’s enough.  Full stop.  So, if it came across to others as if I was judgmental, let me be clear:  I’m human, C’s human.  I’m not perfect, nor is anyone.  I don’t consider my recovery better (or worse) than anyone’s.  The only standard I have is my own, and I only have today to worry about.  Full stop.

Third, while at this time, I choose not to have this person (or others from my past…) around because of the risk that I will use again, or allow myself to be taken advantage of…that doesn’t mean these guys are bad people, or beyond hope of change.  So the door is always open to reconnection in the future, if I feel that the risk has reached a reasonable point – and that I’m more confident in my recovery and choices.  So, if C. or any others ever read this and wonder “is the door closed?”  — absolutely not.  (Now, I may not choose to let you stay here in the future, based on my experience and self-awareness of what I’m able to handle.  But, that doesn’t mean a friendship is out of line, or that I don’t care and want the best for you.  But, my trust must be earned back through actions…)

Lastly, my post was completely honest.  There was nothing false in any of my statements.  Having said that, I don’t necessarily have to disclose every detail, every timeframe, every nuance for a story to be “truthful.”  There are aspects that are private, that are relevant in other situations or audiences, and again: see the earlier comments.  I have one to answer to: my HP; I do not compare or contrast my recovery to other’s.  It’s not better or worse.  I tried to stay focused on facts, and lessons that I took away from the experience – including especially (his gifts, passions, and things I learned from him.  But the facts also included lies, deception and being taking advantage of (which clearly means that I let myself be taken advantage of).  As my mom always said, “it takes two to pick a fight.”  So, I’m neither blameless, innocent or perfect.  But, this was my story – my insights.  As a friend one shares:

“All of my stories are true, and some of them actually happened.”

The real lesson in these stories (as I share more…) is that I can only save myself.  The Serenity Prayer reminds me:

“grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change (usually other people, places, things…), the courage to change the things I can (me, my actions, my beliefs), and the wisdom to know the difference.”

As I love music and see certain songs as gifts from the Universe to guide me and remind me of experiences, or Truths, let me close with a clip from my friend (!) Garrison Keillor and Suzy Bogguss, a frequent guest on his radio show (and many of her songs have touched and moved me…hmmm).  This goes for C., M., J., G., and others who I’ve tried “to save…”

Hosting a pastry chef: a silver lining from my past


There’s the expression, “if life gives you lemons…”  Well, sometimes the decisions I have made in my past while using drugs or trying to save others in early recovery were more akin to inviting lemons into my house to stay for a while.  And to be accurate, I have at times been under the illusion of doing the latter (saving) while  stuck in the trap of the former (using).  Self-deception is the one of the most dangerous places for this (or any) addict to be…

Let’s just say – I’ve learned my lesson and will not be extending an invitation to “friends” to crash here, recover here, or anything remotely similar.  This needs to be my safe haven, and so far, my ability to help others in my home have been disastrous.

Having said that, I’ve often said “If ever I were to write a book…”  Well, why not share some stories here?!  Because after all, these weren’t bad people…just people making bad choices.  They, like any of us, do have gifts to offer the world.  And in many cases, I’ve learned something from them. As an empath, I’m often been able to see something worth saving, even when they can’t see it for themselves. [Likewise, of course, I can’t see it in myself at times…especially during my own using days.] I’ve often thought – if the world could just see and celebrate your “name his gift,” or “name his passion” or “name his talent”  — there might be hope for them to turn around.  [And in my own dark days…if I could see the same in myself, hope for me to stay true to my path.]

So, here is my…
Silver Lining Series – Story #1.  The Pastry Chef.

When I first met C., he struck me as confident, mature and a “winner” as they say in the rooms…someone who would make it. So years later, when he got out of prison and sought my help in finding support, a healthy living environment, and resources to get back on his feet, I shared as much current information from my network as I could. He seemed to take to it, doing the legwork to connect, get into “rehab,” and find work. As I talked with him, I discovered he was an experienced pastry chef…a baker…and that struck a chord with me. I could see his interest in getting back into that work, in perhaps even starting his own business. The future seemed promising…

C. needed some transitional living (days…) to wait out his intake for a local treatment facility and extended halfway house/program. I invited him I to my home. During his brief time, he and I shared time baking…and he taught me things about quick breads, the “chemistry” behind some baking techniques, and the value,of weighing vs measuring (European vs. American style recipes :). We even took one of my moms ‘s “mainstay” recipes – Banana Bread – and experimented with approaches, ingredients, and technique…literally “benchmarking” my normal way of making it with his “training.” And let me tell you…there IS a marked difference. Hands down, his baseline was better tasting and especially better looking. And then he built on that – adjusted some ingredients, like the sugars, and added a touch of spice…and transformed the recipe to yet another level. Amazing. So I now have a new and improved version on mom’s recipe…a gift from his time and his passion.

For that experience and that gift, I’m grateful…

I hope he makes it. I wish I now had more confidence than hope…as my one boss used to say, hope is not a strategy. Setting aside the spiritual gap in that thinking, there are dark clouds on the horizon…the lemonade is at risk of being spoiled…

I also learned that coupled with his outward confidence and “get go” came compulsive lying, manipulation, and a lack of authenticity. Those are challenging bad traits for anyone to have, but for an addict…they can be deadly. He took advantage of me while also sharing his gifts…and in the end, our friendship crumbled. He was recently re-arrested on violation of his parole, and his back in jail/prison.

Still – he’s not a bad person.  He’s not a liar or manipulator…those are labels I try to avoid (just like “good” or “bad.) Again, he’s just a man making bad choices – and I’ve been there, done that.  It doesn’t make us good or bad people.  But, his behaviors weren’t consistent with his words — and I value honesty and truthfulness in my friendships.

Like many home comers, he’s likely influenced by the “system” and the old habits and people he clung to.  Again, I’ve struggled at times with the same battles…  I’m not judging or condemning him.  In contrast, I’m really trying to celebrate and shine a light on his talents, his passions, and the growth and learning I gained from our time together.  But, he was here for a reason or a season…for now, that season is on pause…hopeful and optimistic pause, but pause nonetheless.

I hope he does make it…because he has much to offer the world. Like we each do…no matter how dark the clouds can get, they should never let us be fooled into believing otherwise.

But I am also reminded of the words of my first sponsor. “Most of us won’t make it.” Many of us won’t?! “No, most of us…”

Here’s to you C. May you find yourself before it’s too late…before this ugly disease takes you out. You’re worth it.