gratitude attack

Grace and peace to you! In my first few years of sobriety, I used to get what I called "gratitude attacks" fairly often. They came on suddenly, and they affected me really strongly--even physically. The hair on the back of my neck would stand up; I'd breathe in really suddenly; I'd get goosebumps even. And they happened whenever something in me clicked, something like, "Thank God I don't have to do THAT anymore!" or when I saw something really beautiful that I might not have noticed before. In fact I remember my first "attack" was triggered by a stand of daffodils in bloom that I saw somewhere in Brighton on my way to a meeting.



Well, they don't happen as often as they used to, and when they do, they come on a little more slowly, a little more quietly. They last a little longer these days too. And I've been having a rather extended gratitude attack ever since dinnertime yesterday. I got together with my brother, his wife, my nephew and nieces, and, unusually, my 94-year-old Dad. Dad--deaf as a plank--held up his end of things pretty darn well (except for the incident with the gravy, but hey . . .) And we had a chance to talk in the car on the way home, about how things are for him, about how hard it is--he used the phrase, "It breaks my heart"--not to be able to do some of the things that need to be done. "I used to see work and go do it," he said. "And now my body tells me what I can and can't do."



When we got to the house, he had a little trouble getting out of the car, and he was kind of unsteady on his feet. "I think I'll go lie down," he said. Good idea. But this is the man who was riding his bike last summer, and who still sat cross-legged on the couch a few short months ago.



So why, for Pete's sake, am I having a gratitude attack? Simply this--he's still around. He's remarkably sharp. And I love him. It was just wonderful to have him there for Thanksgiving dinner, to see him doting on his grandson, Daniel.



There's a lot of sadness, a legacy of unspoken disappointments between us. But those things seem to be fading lately. And I do love him, and I'm awfully grateful he's still around.