Crepes in the Dark

It sometimes still amazes me how much can happen in as little as a week.

Especially when all of the stuff that normally happens in a week, still happens.

This one is all about surprises. The endearing gratitude that comes from realizing the unimaginable. And ‘who’da thunk-it’ moments.

I first met my friend Mona in the early part of 1998. More than 14 years ago. Two seriously screwed up individuals travelling a similar journey through the hell of addiction and all of the chaos that it entails.
And our paths crossed.

We hit it off pretty good from the beginning. A shared sarcastic, generally unflattering view of humanity. An evil laugh. Strength to roll with whatever life tossed at us. An ability to see trouble coming and generally get out of its way. Not always, but…

I was, shall we say, enamoured with Mona from the moment that I met her. I have always been attracted to a strong female personality, and they don’t come any stronger. It didn’t hurt that she was 5’ 9” of blond-ish bombshell either.

So I did what a lot of half-way intelligent men might have done in my position. I made sure not too piss her off, lol. And we became friends. Over time, really close friends. We shared some experiences that would make most of you cringe. But we also shared a lot of laughter. Something not very common in the living-in-the-sewers-of-life that crack addiction actually convinces us is plush and fabulous.

Then, years later, I gave up on ‘the life’. I was not strong enough to do it any more. I was broken and needed help to be put back together. And I was tired enough to ask for help.

My asking for help was, of course, heard by the Ottawa Drug Treatment Court. It was exactly what I needed in order to have a fighting chance. And I began what has become the most incredible life experience that I knew I could never have. Thankfully, I was wrong about what I believed I could, and could not, ever have. Because believe me when I tell you that I most certainly never believed that I could have the life that I now live to the fullest every day.

So, where is all this going, you ask.

Well. Let me tell you.

Mona, as you know, has begun to reach out for help. And I have also written in past blogs that I consider myself very fortunate to be one of the people that Mona has reached out to.

This woman knows that I love her. And she is okay with that. As a matter of fact, I think that suits her just fine. Because Mona has been hurt and lied to and beaten down before, as any of us familiar with the lifestyle have.

 Trusting is difficult.

But Mona trusts me.

And that is pretty darned special.

When Mona needs peace. When Mona needs quiet. When Mona needs safety, she has it here.

We had no plans yesterday. I asked Mona if she wanted to see her mom.

“She lives all the way in the Laurentian’s” said Mona. “It’s too far” said Mona.

What a fantastic day. I have mentioned in the past about how much I enjoy riding in the Laurentian’s. Now couple that with the joy of watching a mothers’ face light up as the daughter that she has not seen in several months walks into her arms. And the look of pure admiration and gratitude that a woman might then send your way in thanks.

It is moments like these that make everything I have ever been through – every shitty situation – every jail cell – every homeless night – all worth while.

No sooner had we walked in the door than I was instructed to take a seat and enjoy some brunch.
Homemade crepes. Strawberries. Molasses and apricot jelly. Deliciously strong coffee.We spent several hours at a beautiful mountain chalet-style home engaged in conversation and laughter.

Enjoy it I did. Every moment. And so did Mona.

Ghislaine and Phillippe, thank you for opening your home and inviting me in.

I will bring Mona back very soon. Those moments are too valuable to miss.

Mona is a little less stressed recently. She is eating well too. If mom’s crepes at 0400 in the morning can be considered eating well.

Yes, I think so too.

I love you Mona. And I am so very proud of you.

So how was your day?

 

Just about everything can be categorized. Quantified. Evaluated and valued.

Placed into one column or another.

Even good news.

I mean, if your dentist tells you that you have no cavities, well, that is good news.

Your 10 year olds’ teacher gives you no reason to regret having kids – good news.

Your 16 year old daughter really did simply miss her period – good news.

The car salesman really was able to swing you a deal – good news.

You got that long awaited – or better yet – unexpected raise at work – good news.

Each of you probably has a different order of importance to these ‘good news’ items.

Then there is that whole other column. You know, the one were we try to imagine the feeling of “you won the 6/49” kind of good news.

When an Oncologist walks into an interview room smiling.

Yeah – that kind of good news.

I went with Susie to see her Oncologist this morning. I am not even the one fighting cancer and yet I was almost crying with joy over ‘good news’.

It seems that this woman whom I stand in awe before – this woman who can cause me to wonder at her incredible fortitude – this woman whom I love – has a big, brightly shining light at the end of her proverbial tunnel.

Some good news is just better than others.

We spent the rest of the day enjoying each others company. Sharing good food. Shopping for the pure pleasure of buying something nice.

Laughing. And both, in our own, unspoken way, being grateful.

……..and that’s not all………

It has been a week of good news.

I stopped in to see my sister on Wednesday. I wanted to drop off a birthday card and gift for my mom, and touch base to get the latest update on the less-than-enjoyable current family situation that I mentioned in my last post.

Well. Wonder of wonders. As easy as that, my parents have decided that the best ‘next step’ is for them to move into an assisted living residence.

Okay. Maybe not quite as easy as that. Maybe a little more along the lines of mom saying something like “I don’t know what you are planning, but I am going – I want this”, and dad realizing that his life-long partner meant what she was saying. So dad decided that he, too, is going to move.

Of course, if I had to guess, I would bet that to hear dad tell it, this was his idea all along.

Yes dad. Of course it was.

You may think that it is wrong, selfish, inappropriate for a son to be happy that his parents are moving into an assisted living residence. I assure you that this is far and away the best outcome. For mom. For dad. For my sister, who has placed her life on hold for the last 3 years to take care of my dad as he has progressively weakened.

It is sad. It is not easy. But it is most definitely for the best. And therefore it’s very own kind of ‘good news’.

And then there is Mona. My dear, fucked up, confused, scared friend Mona.

Mona is doing alright.

She doesn’t believe it yet. There are still too many unknowns. Too many possible bad outcomes. Too many things to fear. Too many reasons to have to count on others. Too possibly be let down.

Too little faith in herself.

But that is changing. Slowly, Mona is stretching.

“I know I have to start taking charge of my life, and soon” were the words written to me in a text this morning.

This, my friends, is what is known as a starting point. On the ‘wheel of change’ this is referred to as the contemplative stage.

It is also the beginnings of faith.

God bless you Mona. I love you hon – and will be there to help – or kick you in the ass – whichever the case may be.

I have been blessed in so many ways. A job that I love, which in truth is like being paid to do service work; a family that, screwed up as it is, is still able to make it through the shitty stuff without trying to tear each others throats out. And friends who are there for me, and who know that I am there for them.

It is an honour for me to know that I can be counted on. By me. And by others.

 

Wow. What a Monday, huh?

Up’s, down’s….and twisties!

 

I purposely stayed off the blog last week. Just to step back for a minute. Collect my thoughts. And decide just how personal and revealing it needs, or should be.

Still haven’t come up with an answer. So…..

Here we go.

I introduced you to my friend Mona the last time that I wrote. Things are pretty shitty for her right now. That is generally a given for us when we are active in our addictions and wanting to change.

It is not easy. As a matter of fact, it is really, really tough. I mean, imagine for a second, if you will, that someone has told you that the only way that your situation is likely to improve is for you to cut ties with virtually everyone who is currently a part of your life.

All of the people that you associate with on a daily basis – gone.

The people that you have convinced yourself are the only one’s who understand you – that you have come to call friends. Family. Lovers.

History.

The people that you KNOW, and that KNOW you – you have to say goodbye.

Could you do it?

Those of us who have spent our lives in the ever-darkening hell of active addiction generally have no choice but to do so. If we are to have even the barest of chances at survival and then growth into a new-found way of life, we must leave our old lives behind.

Separation anxiety, anyone? You’re damned right there is.

And that is where my friend is now. In the purgatory of desperately wanting to change, yet being stuck in the comfort of the familiar.

Having difficulty understanding this idea. Well consider this.

We are generally only afraid of the unknown. Of that which we do not yet understand. It is why the dark frightens most of us. Because we have no idea what lies in wait, with sharpened claws and dripping teeth, to cause us unbearable pain and torment.

Turn on a light – erase the shadows – show us that the path is clear and safe – and we are once again our happy-go-lucky selves, chuckling with bravado at our momentary lack of reason.

Well, my friends, the idea of recovering from a life-long addiction to drugs, and the associated lifestyles that go with it, often is that darkest of dark places. Because a life without drugs; without booze; without criminal behaviours and constant scamming - that is something that, for people like my friend Mona, and myself not so many years ago, is completely unknown. Something that we are not capable of understanding. Something that is very frightening. Precisely because we do not understand it.

Yet.

So my friend Mona is scared.

And that brings us to my current predicament.

You see, I have that understanding now. I have clawed my way from darkness and despair and I know first hand that it is all possible.

There was a time in my life – most of my life, actually – when I knew, just knew in my heart, that I could never have a ‘normal’ life. That I never would have peace. Quiet. Serenity. Happiness.

Everything that I knew, in the most tightly woven fibres of my being, that I could never have, I have since come to know and experience on a daily basis.

Every good thing that every other person had in their life – I now have in mine.

And I really want to help Mona to see this. To feel this. To believe this. To KNOW this.

I want her to trust that everything will be okay.

But my heart is involved here.I really care about this woman. So I have to ask myself – am I able to be selfless. To stay one step removed. To not fall further for her than I already have over the 14 years that we have known each other.

I don’t know.

And that is kind of scary.

I love you Mona. And I will do what I can. That much I can promise.

In other news………………

My dad is not doing well. He was in the hospital again last week. A fractured elbow suffered after yet another fall – this one resulting in him being found unconscious on the floor.

My brothers and sister and I are discussing next steps. It isn’t easy. Or pleasant.

On the up-side of things, though – Susie is doing really well. I mean, aside from the dozens of mosquito bites that she suffered last week, that continue to drive her out of her mind with their itchiness. Aside from that, things are good for Susie. No more fevers. No more unscheduled trips to the emergency room.

Wait a minute. Is a trip to the emergency room ever scheduled? No, I guess not.

Anyway, the point is that she continues to keep her chin held high, to laugh out loud, and to live life as fully as her situation allows. How could I not love this woman?

I am so proud of you Susie. Crazy about you too, but that is my issue, lol.

Finally, I have become the subject of an amateur photographer friend of mine. He has been experimenting with lenses, lighting and content over the past little while, and recently he snapped off a few of me and my bike.

I have to say, I am pretty happy with the results.

 

This picture comes pretty close to capturing the moment. And the magic.

You have to dance with the road – riding her curves – boogying through her twisties – to really get it. But this is pretty darned close.

I will post again next week. Or as the subject matter develops.

Be good to each other. And get out and RIDE!