And they all sang

I stopped drinking at 24. Not because I wanted to, but because I had to.  It would be several years later before the desire to drink was completely lifted. I had always been a pleasure seeker, a comfort seeker, whether it was food, or booze or men or shopping. I liked to feel good. Only in sobriety did I discover the benefit of feeling shitty, of actually allowing myself to feel everything life has to offer.

The experience of watching my grandmother slip down the dark hole of Alzheimer's has been the essence of what getting sober is all about: being able to show up for other people when they need you, even if you don't always want to.  An alcoholic is a selfish creature, causing damage nearly everywhere they go. I remember a Saturday evening a lifetime ago when my then husband and sister in law and I took the train up to my mother's house for Mother's Day weekend. I showed up drunk and angry. Drunk because I had worked a brunch shift earlier in the day and drank my way through the entire eight hour shift. And angry because my husband and his sister accused me of being drunk.  We all went out to dinner that evening and everyone refused to order a bottle of wine. I was livid.  I do not recall the Mother's Day the year after that.

I am hoping my grandmother makes another Mother's Day. The nursing home has a nice outdoor area that would be a great place to have a picnic with the kids and her in the spring. I did not bring the kids with me today, it was just the two of us, the way it used to be, and it was one of the best visits we've had in awhile. We played gin rummy for half an hour AND SHE WON! Granted, I may not have played like my life depended on it, but we had fun. We snacked on rugelach  I'd brought and talked about my grandfather who passed away in 1991. When we were finished with cards she allowed me to take her upstairs where it said on the schedule that trivia was taking place. We were late but no one seemed to care. She was invited in and I pulled up a chair and listened as the residents played name that tune. It was beautiful to see these elderly people recognize the songs and begin to sing them. My grandma remembered a few and would shout out the title of the song. 'America the Beautiful' played and many of the residents sang loudly in unison. It gave me the chills and is something I won't soon forget. What a special visit.

It all goes by so quickly...

How is my oldest child eight years old? And how am I (much) closer to forty than thirty? I have been divorced far longer than I was married. In the past five years I have logged more time with regulars at my restaurants then I have with my extended family.

Life is not how I thought it would be, it's simply what it is.

I know that it is all going by far too quickly for my liking. When I had my first baby a man that I had once babysat for told me to enjoy it, he said the days go by so slowly and the years go by so quickly. At the time I had a very sick baby who barely slept and cried all day. I couldn't wait for these days to be over, I had no ability to savor the moment, I was exhausted and overwhelmed.

The next two years, adding another baby to the family, selling a house, opening a restaurant, moving twice.....did not encourage me to slow down and soak in the details of every day. Not to say I was unhappy, quite the opposite. But everything seemed like work, tasks I had to accomplish in order to keep the train on the tracks. I had gone from zero kids to two kids in 19 months, as well as becoming a business owner. It was a lot to take in.

And now what I wouldn't give to have one of my girls be a toddler again. Or go back eight years and have my grandmother back. As I was rocking Crosby to sleep last night I remembered a CPR certification pin I found in my grandma's jewelry box a few weeks ago. I was surprised to see it because I don't remember her ever talking about being certified. I wondered if she did it when my grandpa was very sick. And then I thought I should call her and ask......and then I remembered. It made me hold my breath for a second, the realization that I can't just pick up the phone and call her. It's what I've said about Alzheimer's many times before on this blog, that it is a slow death for the family where you lose the person you love little by little.

One of my friends lost her sister this week, suddenly, with very little warning. It is a reminder to me how fragile life is and how deeply loss is felt when a loved one is gone.

Rest in Peace Paige Thomas.