I am going to write some honesty here, so I am sure glad I found a way to have either gotten rid of the evil commenter, or I have found a way to not have to listen to him... not sure which. He has either left me alone for a week or so, or I truly found the magical way to not ever have to see his comments. Let me know if you want to know the secret... but I digress...
This morning I left in haste for church, didn't have time to even blog. I thought I was ready to go to the gym after church, but I forgot my iPod. I realized I had my old iPod in my car, so I went to the gym after church at 6 a.m. My old iPod doesn't really work anymore. You have to jiggle the cord to get the earbuds to work right and adjusting the volume is iffy. Changing songs is impossible - and you can no longer even turn the thing off! So, there I was, a victim of whatever song came on next. And a song came on. I usually skip past it. I don't know when I last listened to it.
I was 2 miles into a 3 mile run and there was "Jersey Girl" by Bruce Springsteen. As I listened to Bruce sing "tonight I want to be with you," I thought how beautiful and how nice it would be to hear these words said to me.
And then I remembered. The first time I ever danced with George. At an AA dance. In 1984. To Jersey Girl by Bruce. George loved me. I eventually came to love George. We danced. A slow dance. And George wanted to be with me. George never stopped wanting to be with me. I was young and beautiful and newly sober and George was quite a bit older, and could never quite stay sober, but he adored me.
Today, I am a 56 year old grandmother, running as fast as she can on the treadmill... and believe me, I mean that in more ways than one. But this morning, I was transported back to a time when I was young, newly sober, and dancing with a man who adored me. Oh, dear. I had chills.
I wish I could have appreciated what I had when I had it. I never quite appreciated George, and I eventually broke up with him - I could not stay with someone who was drinking. I never appreciated being newly sober because I wanted to have decades of sobriety. I could go on, but I am sure you get the drift. (And I also will just say, just so no one needs to tell me: I do get the lesson here. I need to appreciate where I am today - and most days I do. I am just really tired today.)
George died a couple of years ago. I just want to say:
George Edward Schnaufer, I love you. Wherever you are, I love you. I hope you are resting peacefully in heavenly bliss ... and I hope I will see you again someday.