I am the daughter

 Been going to al-Anon meetings, as support for my son, who is in a pain right now that nobody can touch but himself and his "girlfriend". Today after two conversations with him, about going to a noon meeting. That I would pick him up and take him. I arranged to take time off, drove across town and he was still asleep. I was angry for a moment, and knew that my anger would only hurt me, I was ready to just go back to work, and thought, no, I took the time off, I can still go to the meeting and I'm glad I did. Listening to the comments of everyone, the sharing of their lives their journey. 

Today the conversation was about relationships and the family dynamic. I was listening to one woman talk about her children now, and how she described them, micro-managing, everything has to be exact. How when her babies were born, there was no maternal instinct. It was raise them till they are 18, strong ready to take on the world. Oh, crap that's me! and it hit me, I am the daughter of an alcoholic! In all this time I have never thought of myself described this way, won this hat. Back in the day, it was just part of the culture of being a Hispanic man, "They all drink" It's normal. My dad was a sweetheart, until he had too much to drink. Then he was a stranger, a violent person that replaced my dad. He would become physically abusive to my mother.  I can remember my mom telling us to hide under the beds before he came home. I can remember my mom taking us for long drives, with bologna and bread. Going to the drive in.  What I can remember are a few incidents of physical abuse towards my mother. And eventually she to him. Going to the corner bar to drag him home or see him make it home and drop in the driveway with my mother saying leave him there. Is it any wonder that I don't remember my childhood as one would think? 

But here I am with my AS a severe alcoholic, and I'm already detached.  I love my son very much, but he is a grown man,  

Here I am at 60 years old, been trying to work on myself, find that inner peace, and I think I almost have found it, there's a calm lull in my life and then something comes and rocks the boat. And it's not a gentle sway, it's a I'm going to break this bitch. I'm going to freak you out and pull your carefully built foundation from under you. Thank goodness whether it be from age or experience, there are times that my reaction is delayed enough, and I wait, that it isn't as bad as I think it is when I rush through and read stuff. 

Of late, I have stepped out of my comfort zone and sat in chairs across the city officials. I have sat there and questioned them; surprised them that I have reached above them. That I have the connections I do. That I too can look at ordinances and have the knowledge I do. Perhaps I have put a mark on my back.  Perhaps my name now is in the red pile. I only know that I will go after what I believe to be fair. For so long I have made Kiwanis my project, my life, and I know now even as hard as it will be, I need to change my focus just a little. I can only that the City can see the contributions the club has made to the community, then and now. I can only hope that they see the club as a whole. 

Update: Our Beloved Mando passed away 11/12/23 surrounded by his loved ones, his last days filled with tears, love and laughter. We were not ready to let him go, but he was so tired of this world.  In his honor the family continues to keep his memory alive with various events, pictures and conversations. I continue to stay part of the recovery organization, part of grief journey groups. 2/24/25