Archive for the ‘Last Days’ tag
Please Remember
He was a brave young man, the second youngest of 13 children raised in a family that didn't have much in worldly goods but filled with love.
When the war in Europe broke out, he signed up to fight for what he knew was right...freedom for all, freedom from tyrants, freedom from persecution because of race, religion, colour or beliefs.
He fought in Italy and sweated in the trenches of North Africa. He fought the last days in Holland and the joy of liberation was short lived when he saw his first mass grave uncovered...a grave filled with children. He never forgot this.
Each year he went to Cenotaph to remember those who fought with him, those who never came home and to remember that grave with prayers that this would never happen again.
He was humble in his presence, wearing his medals only when encouraged to do so by family and others who had shared his journey. He never spoke of what he saw until about 20 years after the war had ended, but he never forgot and he never stopped praying.
Today he rests in a home for the aged, no longer able to march with those who served. Today he has lost much of his short term memory, yet still remembers...those he fought with, those who were lost and that grave frilled with children.
Today I will take pause at 11 am, and I will say a prayer of gratitude, for all those who have served and given their lives to ensure that our world remains a place where I can walk in peace.
Today I will say a special thank you for the best father-in-law anyone could ever have the privilege of knowing. Today I will remember his stories, especially the story of the grave, and my heart will weep for the loss many years ago of those who fought to make my world a place where I will never see or know the atrocities that this sweet man endured.
Thank you dad, thank you for sharing your stories and may I never forget or take for granted one moment of my life.
I remember. Please take a moment and honour these men and women with me. The soldiers of wars gone by and those who continue to fight bravely for your freedom and mine.
God bless every one of them.
Hugs
When the war in Europe broke out, he signed up to fight for what he knew was right...freedom for all, freedom from tyrants, freedom from persecution because of race, religion, colour or beliefs.
He fought in Italy and sweated in the trenches of North Africa. He fought the last days in Holland and the joy of liberation was short lived when he saw his first mass grave uncovered...a grave filled with children. He never forgot this.
Each year he went to Cenotaph to remember those who fought with him, those who never came home and to remember that grave with prayers that this would never happen again.
He was humble in his presence, wearing his medals only when encouraged to do so by family and others who had shared his journey. He never spoke of what he saw until about 20 years after the war had ended, but he never forgot and he never stopped praying.
Today he rests in a home for the aged, no longer able to march with those who served. Today he has lost much of his short term memory, yet still remembers...those he fought with, those who were lost and that grave frilled with children.
Today I will take pause at 11 am, and I will say a prayer of gratitude, for all those who have served and given their lives to ensure that our world remains a place where I can walk in peace.
Today I will say a special thank you for the best father-in-law anyone could ever have the privilege of knowing. Today I will remember his stories, especially the story of the grave, and my heart will weep for the loss many years ago of those who fought to make my world a place where I will never see or know the atrocities that this sweet man endured.
Thank you dad, thank you for sharing your stories and may I never forget or take for granted one moment of my life.
I remember. Please take a moment and honour these men and women with me. The soldiers of wars gone by and those who continue to fight bravely for your freedom and mine.
God bless every one of them.
Hugs
Shivering Denizens of a Mad Realm
"For most normal folks, drinking means conviviality, companionship and colorful imagination. It means release from care, boredom and worry. It is joyous intimacy with friends and a feeling that life is good. But not so with us in those last days of heavy drinking. The old pleasures were gone. They were but memories. Never could we recapture the great moments of the past. There was an insistent yearning to enjoy life as we once did and a heartbreaking obsession that some new miracle of control would enable us to do it.note There was always one more attempt - and one more failure."
"The less people tolerated us, the more we withdrew from society, from life itself. As we became subjects of King Alcohol, shivering denizens of his mad realm, the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find understanding companionship and approval. Momentarily we did - then would come oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen - Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair. Unhappy drinkers who read this page will understand!"
"The less people tolerated us, the more we withdrew from society, from life itself. As we became subjects of King Alcohol, shivering denizens of his mad realm, the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find understanding companionship and approval. Momentarily we did - then would come oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen - Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair. Unhappy drinkers who read this page will understand!"
What brought you to seek recovery?
A recent thread left me with this thought on my mind.Â
I am wondering what has brought each of you to the place where you decided to try and find a way out of the mire that is alcoholism. Please feel free to share you thoughts and experience on the subject of what brought you to seek recovery.
For years I thought that what brought me to my knees was the realization that not only was my drinking slowly killing me but also it was destroying those that cared the most about me as well. Today I realize that it goes deeper than that. If I had to put it into one word that word would be "Hope". I had lost all hope that life could change, that I could change, that my world could change. I felt as though I was just going to continue with the whirl of water going down the toilet until my body finally succumed to this disease.
What renewed that hope was borne of desperation. I did not want to die but I had no idea how to live life and not feel completely insane without drinking.
What brought back hope for me was hearing the people in my first meeting of AA share their experience, strength, and hope. I finally was able to catch a glimpse of the idea that it might be possible for me to find some peace in my life since they seemed to have found it for themselves. There is a passage in the Big Book of Alcoholics Anonymous that truly describes how I felt when I finally reached out for help.
An old timer said that "Once we are pickled, we can never be cucumbers again." The truth of this statement has been borne out in the vast experience of those who have found sobriety. Once we lose our ability to control our drinking, it is gone forever.
We experience terror that we are out of control,
bewilderment that despite our firm resolve we have gotten drunk again,
frustration that our willpower can not bring about the life that we desire,
and despair that we will ever rise out of the mire into which we are sinking.
There are many ways to recovery. Many different recovery programs. If any of what I have shared here rings true for you and you are struggling to find hope, please reach out, there is hope, find a program that works for you. Sobriety is truly a blessing.
Quote:
For most normal folks, drinking means conviviality, companionship, and colorful imagination. It means release from care, boredom, and worry. It is joyous intimacy with friends, and a feeling that life is good. But not so with us in those last days of heavy drinking. The old pleasures were gone. They were but memories. Never could we recapture the great moments of the past. There was an insistent yearning to enjoy life as we once did and a heartbreaking obsession that some new miracle of control would enable us to do it. There was always one more attempt---and one more failure. The less people tolerated us, the more we withdrew from society, from life itself. As we became subjects of King Alcohol, shivering deniznes of his mad realm, the chilling vapor that is loneliness settled down. It thickened, ever becoming blacker. Some of us sought out sordid places, hoping to find understanding companionship and approval. Momentarily we did---then would come oblivion and the awful awakening to face the hideous Four Horsemen---Terror, Bewilderment, Frustration, Despair. Unhappy drinkers who read this page will understand. (from the chapter A Vision for You) |
