I can’t believe it’s been a week already.
I’m exhausted. I’ve never felt this worn out – not even during the wedding, because then, the leading emotions were excitement and joy. Last weekend, and all this week, I have been awash with fear, tension, and grief – emotions that can suck your lifeforce.
I’m so, so tired.
And, my heart has been aching this week. Such a strong bath of grief, pain, and an almost unbearable sweetness of hope has surrounded me, that I have not been able to write one whit. I have simply been trying to feel, instead of do. I had a centering hour this morning, though, which has helped my find my voice again. The emotions are still here, swirling, but I can see more clearly through them – like lifting through the cloud layer.
Derek’s Dad has been dealing with – suffering from – an addiction to alcohol for a number of years, and in recent weeks, things have come to a breaking point. Last Friday evening, six members of our family – what came to be known as The Group – had an intervention for, and with him. It was planned for Saturday, but stepped up to Friday due to the urgency of his condition. I believe this intervention was touched by the divine. It was a statement of the power of family, the power of love, and the power of hope.
He agreed to treatment after much, much love and talking and more assurances of love…treatment has begun, and it will be a long haul.
And that’s pretty much the story.
Except this: that by coming together to “save” W, we learned that we can’t. We can only save ourselves. And by doing that, we all recover.
Maybe I’m not making much sense right now. I am still so bone tired, so very worn that I can’t string my thoughts together as fluidly as I usually do. All I know is I am more focused, more centered on my soul than I have ever been. I feel fragile and yet incredibly strong.