Tuesday, November 22, 2011


I knew Kevin drank, it wasn't bad at the time, he would have a beer or a whiskey some days, then when the missionaries came along he quit. Just quit cold turkey... I was so shocked, he seemed to have much more in life than the alcohol, like the kids and I were so important.

Now, for me... it doesn't matter if he drank or smoked or even that he didn't go to church. Yes, it would have been wonderful for him to come every Sunday and help me out, or to not have to worry about the smell of the smoke or his drinking. But, I really accepted him for everything he was, I loved him for the hard work he did and for the man I could see him trying to be. I know that when we love someone we love them for ALL the BAD, the GOOD and the hardest of times, you try your hardest to help them succeed. So, I was not about to tell him how to live his life, or that he needed to do what I wanted him to do.

Some days I would cry in church seeing all these cute families and the daddy's taking the silly kids out in the hall, or helping to break up a fight between the kids, or even just putting his arm around his wife. I would never take those small things for granted. But I went and made it my own, and knew maybe someday...

But then something happened, he started to have a whiskey or two or three... every night. I would take him and his brother to poker games or to the bar, and I would have to pick them up at or around 2am, that way I knew he was safe. I am not sure if I did it to make him happy, afraid of what he would do, or If I really was OK with it. Maybe I enabled him too much, gave him to many windows and opportunities to drink and do what ever? not sure... guess it doesn't really matter now.

Sometimes when I would pick him up he was nice, and others not so nice. He never hit me at this point, just was verbally abusive. Yelled at me for the way I drove, or the way I looked at 2 in the morning, like I was supposed to look like a MOVIE STAR? made me feel very self conscience of myself. I just sat and ignored him, but the more times you hear it the more you dwell on it. Then it got to the point that I would have to get ready before I picked him up, maybe that would make him happier and when he came home I wouldn't be afraid of the yelling and waking the kids up.

My heart is still so heavy, so many scars to have to heal, so angry that I even have to try and heal these wounds. Here it is now right before Thanksgiving, one of my worst holidays... way too much food, and every one expecting me to EAT more than I can. And yet, I am angry and I should be thankful.

I do know that there are MANY, MANY things that I am thankful for, I see it in my kids, my strength, family and friends. I will keep smiling and keep my head high, for I know My true WORTH.