- K, So it's been a while, no real surprise. The last how many posts have started that way, with the same old bullshit promise, "this time it'll be different", "this time I'm back to stay". Fuck me dry, you think I would have recognized the pattern by now right. Thick as pea soup on my Canadian porch in January!
- But this time I have a reason, there is one person I hope I reach, one person who has touched me so deeply in recent years, I have to honor those efforts. So, with keyboard on my lap, & something different in my heart, I write. "The Heroin Diaries" certainly made me gasp, even recoil. Yet, had I been a twenty something rock god with bottomless pockets, loosed on the innocents of L.A. would I have been any different? Would I have survived? Honestly, I don't believe I would have. I'm far too stupid, self deprecating? Sure. Truth? As I know it! My little sobriety calculator tells me that 5238 days ago I started this journey of self discovery, & as I sit here today I know me a little better, & I can tell you that my circumstances fit me very well. I came close enough to death in those dark years, sometimes so close that I can still recall the stench. That's what the diaries did for me. They gave me a kindred spirit a world away, whose hand & pen I knew all too well. Words, sentence structures & thought patterns that sent chills down my back, & I was happy, I was glad I'd never left my little shit hole in Southern Ontario, because his hand spelled out what I was saved from. His closet was my hell, on the other side of a continent. Such bravery, such brutal honesty, my tears celebrated for him, and gave a rousing "Fuck-You" to those who were too scared to participate.
- Today, about two hours ago, he laid a challenge. This Is Gonna Hurt, there is no doubt. But pain has been a constant companion hasn't it. One of them old timers that tried to get me to go back to "Kingston" & visit the penitentiaries there, would say "Pain is your higher power's way of letting you know you ain't dead yet". You know why I Fuck'n hate that old timer bullshit? For the exact same reason I banged heads with my father, my mother, or any one of the four amazing sisters I have today, because 9 out of 10 times, they're right; and that always means I'm wrong. When I'm wrong that means I have to let go of something, & anything I've ever let go of has claw marks all over it!
- My sister's & I said good-bye to our mother this past February. After the long, gruelling 7 plus year process called "Alzheimer's" had it's way with her, she was able to let go and finally re-unite with Reg, our father. Now, some 26yrs after losing our father, with both parents gone, my sisters & I find ourselves closer then any one of us could have ever imagined possible. United by loss? Certainly. Without question a unique, and unexpected bond that none of us will soon take for granted. Trust me when I note that as we revel in our new found connection, we individually shake our heads, & pinch ourselves! This is the letting go I speak of. "This", is what's "Gonna Hurt".
- At 42, I look back & see the wreckage, the outstretched hands I swatted away. I can feel the hatred & seething anger that set up shop with no intention of ever leaving. From age 7, to age 12 the 'victim' of molestation. I was the guy you'd give your van keys to, I'd run & buy batteries , & help you figure out the new "wireless" system. The next day I'd be the guy telling you "yeah, that chick looked clean". I was bitter, angry & hanging on your coat tails, because I was too afraid to let anyone see me. There's thousands like me, nameless "wannabes" that were happy to fetch a mike stand, or run to the van to replace a shorted out cord. Letting it all go, it happened. I sat with my niece, day 2, maybe day 4 of the two week marathon at mom's bedside. A nurse had brought fresh blankets to the recliners we were sharing (for beds), & Amanda and I settled across the room from each other. "Tell me all about being engaged", I started, & as she began, uncle Stacey took the floor & dominated the next 45min. of conversation. Bless these amazing people I call nieces & nephews. They all claim to love me so deeply, but they must be sick of my soap box bullshit by now! Here's the switch, although she did a tonne of nodding, & gave me too many, "uh, huh's" to count. This lovely young lady, just beginning her life, allowed me to find my way through my own crap, & in an instant, 25yrs. of bitterness, anger, resentment, & regret vanished. It has been the single biggest moment of these last 14yrs. in recovery. It was amazing, I instantly felt free to love in ways I've yet to begin to explore. To be sure, my 4 sisters are only the beginning.
- Since then; I have been "back", to mom & dad's grave side. I've searched for some grandiose epiphany, & none came. That was until last night. As I read, I recalled Heroin Diaries, & my own experiences. I remember the Detroit show & being convinced if I could just talk to you, or Vince, I could come on the road, plug in your cords & marry a Rock & Roll Cinderella, Disney's happy ever "stoner". I swear I can remember hearing that radio interview from T.O. & spent many a party trying to recount it only to be called full of shit. As I read, & once again followed you through your game of solitaire; I had it, the epiphany. You see, these last two weeks I've been away. "Back" home, at mom's grave, helping sisters, & family. Watching our youngest practice his card tricks via "Face Time", looking for this spiritual breakthrough, & here it was, right at home. The middle boy & I helped the youngest find 3 of his missing cards just this past weekend. Here; at home. Here my "wireless" keyboard waits, dusty, neglected. Here at home, my best friend waits for me, my wife Sara, beautiful loving mother, and inspiration to so many. Here at home I got it pretty good. I'm 'semi' retired, our boys, & their friends make music happen every day, the arts & creation & passion are all here. I just needed a "Fuckin Wake Up Call".
- This is what the new book, & the new music did for me, thanks Frank, take good care of him Katherine, we need him around for a long while to come !
- That Felt Great, }:) Love, S.
