Daily Gratitude List 10.9.22

Moose and Unmanageability

I’m grateful for another simply gorgeous morning. I’m grateful for a highly successful series of weekend expeditions. I’m grateful for the way my life is when I let it. I’m grateful it’s not always pennies. I’m grateful to be sober today.

I guess the hidden star of the story I posted yesterday was my beloved, ungainly, half-beast, ultimate wingman, Moose:

Falling in Love That Last Time

Moose definitely changed things. When the kids announced the dog selection process, I was actually terrified. I knew I was going to be starting the IOP the next week and I knew what was involved in taking care of a dog—having just nursed Kayla to the end earlier that year. No one knew how much I was drinking and I really didn’t think I could manage any of it anymore, much less take on a new dog.

Moose, freshly-groomed, wearing a very sporty bandana and headed to visit someone special

I just remember walking around my neighborhood, shuttling between my spots, wondering how I was going to possibly manage another real stab at sobriety and being responsible for a dog. Drinking always took me to the land of “Don’t Have To,” that’s what I really needed relief from and it’s why I loved it so, so much. The math on this was staring me in the face and I wasn’t liking it. I was going to have way more responsibility (Moose!)¹ and would not have my most favorite, but largely ineffective tool at my side. This did not seem manageable.

Moose knew something about “adverse possession.” I no longer have that sofa.

Moose arrived and things started to change. Moose kind of dragged me back to some semblance of a normal life. Instead of being at The Commissary at 7:55am, resentfully wondering why the manager insisted on waiting until exactly 8:00am to open the door, I was at the Dog Park with Moose. Same thing in the afternoon/evening. Deviation from this new routine resulted in a gigantic Moose poop somewhere in the house. Did I mention that Moose weighed 105 lbs? ² In a funny way, Moose's unmanageability forced me to start making some pretty helpful changes.

Sorry, I get pretty easily carried away on the topic of dogs and I didn’t just start taking pictures, if you know what I’m saying. But there was something else I wanted to write about today. The October reckoning project, or whatever I’m calling it this morning, is kind of hard, I’m realizing. You can’t write something without remembering it and living the details. I think that’s what’s powerful about it for me; it forces me to live those moments again a little, which, depending on the moment involved, can be kind of excruciating. Like that beautiful, kind smile A. flashed when I told her I was an alcoholic.

Once that stuff gets sloshing around again, well, it doesn’t feel all that great. That elegant, flinty glass of Sauvignon Blanc was pretty good at muffling those feelings, maybe we pressed down too hard on the pillow sometimes. For a long time, all of those memories and the feelings disappeared for a little bit when I drank. But they never really left and they kept popping up again and again in a really discouraging way. So, I just kept increasing the dosage.

I’ve spent the last few weeks reliving those weeks of September and October of 2015, over and over. Listening to the songs over and over. Putting the words about it on a piece of paper was not an antiseptic thing; it really kind of shook me and I will admit I’ve felt pretty raw these last few days. So, Friday afternoon turned into a used record shopping expedition. Generation Records earns more love from me because they now have re-usable, elegantly branded, LP-sized totes. As someone who carries lots of records on the subway, thank you! Of course, Academy Records has a pretty fabulous classical selection and the boxed sets of Haydn Symphonies were a real find. Still at the top of the "Records To Find" list, an original of The Car’s first album.³

Yesterday was the Farmer’s Market and then a pretty interesting movie down in the Village last night. These are all the things I’ve loved to do for most of my life. 17 year-old me loved going to all of the film society screenings on campus and living in New York is a little like heaven in that regard.⁴ Anyway, all of that helped me pretty significantly with the feelings that had been stirred up and then I saw something early this morning that just helped me make sense of all of this in the most lovely way:

#035: Harmony and Tension

I hope it’s cool to do this, but I thought this poem by Phillipa James was just too beautiful and really moved me⁵:

Over love

I thought you were over it, they say
I thought you had moved on

How do you move on from love?
it's just there
it's a feeling, a spark and a warmth in the heart, an attraction, empathy. 

Sometimes if they go out of sight you can pretend
and move on
but they are there and all those feelings come back
a little less than before but...
overwhelm.

Be responsible, they say
acknowledge it and...

How can you forget about the catalyst
that unlocked a heart?
Questioning reality
the what ifs
did this connection really exist?

There is no happy ending here
maybe in another life
Only reflection and a lesson somewhere
for now remnants stay like shards of glass in a heart.

Unlike a rainbow
over love
feeling a loss rather than a possibility
It is like grief where it fades day by day then…
Bang it’s back

Yes, but now every time it comes back, I remember more of the beautiful things, I look at the pictures and see some of the things I missed or got wrong. I slowly make peace with it, I slowly make peace with myself.

Thanks for Letting Me Share

1. I used to joke about changing Moose’s name to “Moose!” I realize that perhaps I’ve relied too much on punctuation-based jokes.

2. Now that I’m thinking about it, this could be a more-used tool in early sobriety.

3. If we were to have a conversation about the best album ever, I’m going to put this into the mix. Seriously.

4. Last night’s film was called Vesper and I thought it was pretty cool. The couple sitting down the row from me did not apparently agree and made a pretty noisy exit.

5. This poem is referenced in the line about it not always being pennies in the gratitude list.