yesterday was a year since my sponsor passed away, since he died. October 22, 2018. yesterday his wife, Nancy, put his ashes into the creek. i went to visit, to be with her while she did it. i went to visit, to be support, to be supported. sad to say, in this we're practically all either one has, though we both have people who understand, as much as they can. but the dynamic of who Johnnie L Copeland was is bigger than most people can encapsulate, and there's no point going into it a year later.
i shared a poem that i wrote, but it's not the heart of my feelings.
In the end of ‘88,
Dying incrementally,
Didn’t mean to make you wait,
Glad that you were there
For me.
Another whole millennium,
How many times around the sun?
And I thought you would never die,
Thought for damn sure
I’d be the one.
I didn’t have
A single thing,
Afraid to look folks
In the eye,
Twenty and newly
Off the pipe,
Too dumb to live,
Too scared to die,
And there you were,
A strong, black man,
A 3 piece suit
And glasses dark,
No smile, no frown,
Just power contained,
Something in that moment,
A spark,
Around the room,
The voices went,
I never heard
One single word
Until the time came
That you spoke,
Your voice,
And nothing else
Was heard.
Everyone hung
Upon your tone,
Your syllables
Brought order in
And somewhere
In my coke froze mind
I thought,
‘I want to be like him.”
When love’s an action,
Not a word,
Its gravity
Is greater still,
And everything
You’ve given me
Is love
That has not had it's fill,
For love does not need
To defend itself,
That’s one thing
You taught me,
Love is not bound
By death or life,
It goes on
Exponentially.
From when you’d sit
In my folk’s drive
And talk to me
Hours at a time
After meetings,
Making me know
That I was blessed
With a good mind.
When at meetings
I was honored
To be the one
Holding the floor
Knowing that what you
Shared with me
Would accomplish
Changes and more,
I wasn’t one
For the big stage,
I liked the trenches
For my fights
And while most showed
Only disdain
You let me know
That was alright,
But not forever,
Not always,
Just until it was time
To grow,
And when I asked
When would that be,
You’d smile and say,
“I’ll let you know.”
You knew I’d wait
And work
And try my best
To serve the higher cause,
And even when
My faith was shook
And when I chose
To take a pause
You never judged,
You never condemned,
You never sent me away.
You were the one
Who cleared the path,
You were the one
Who helped me stay,
You were the one
Who showed me things,
Like how to walk
And talk, and live.
You were the one
Who showed me
Spirit things were the
Best things to give,
A word of thanks,
A kindness shared,
A laugh, a cigarette,
A talk
That did not have
A timer set,
A volleyball game,
A brief walk.
A person who would
Have your back
Regardless what the fools
Pretend,
You were my uncle,
Brother,
Briefly you were my
Father,
But my friend?
Always.
From the very start.
And so much, so goddamned
Much more,
And what can I say now
Except
I understand
What I’m here for…
I wish you could have
Met my grandson,
Wish he could have
Heard your voice,
Wish he’d been blessed
By your wisdom,
But I guess
That leaves no choice
But to make sure
He has that option
By staying true
To the Way,
To the road my feet were placed on,
To the things
You had to say,
For they live
Inside my spirit,
In my wolf
A lion resides,
And thanks to you
I’m not fearing any
Human;
I don’t hide.
I make choices,
Live with the results,
Pay my dues
And do my time.
Enjoy what God
Puts before me,
Be it wafer, wine or crime.
I don’t have the luxury
Of belief that
Heaven awaits,
I know there’s a resurrection,
I know that’s the only fate,
I know I’ll see you again,
Maybe a moment, maybe more,
But for the past moments,
I’m grateful,
And that’s what the Program’s for.
Thank you for being
My Sponsor,
And for being
So much more...
i'm not saying it isn't true, but it's not the heart of my feelings about and for this man.
because when the tape runs back all the way, i only remember being sad and scared. those two emotions were all i had.
i was scared of people, scared because i'd taken one too many casual daggers along the way, about my weight, about my appearance, one too many daggers that people were always sticking in me. i'd shut down, and to manage the shutting down, i drank, i smoked reefer, i did cocaine. whatever it took to numb myself enough that the shutting down would work. and i was sad because i had no real friends, no self-esteem, no prospect of a life that would be happiness to live. when i stood on that bucket in the garage on Gilbert Street in '88, i was trying to kill the need for people, to kill the weariness of struggling so hard to just fit in, of trying so much to not feel anything at all for way too long.
so in the first days of sobriety, all the numbness was gone, and only the fear of people was present. and this man, this human being, he knew all this, somehow. he knew it and he responded to it. he started out our journey by saving my life, and he never stopped saving it.
there would be days that i couldn't function at all, days where i couldn't leave my parent's basement. paralyzed and just managing to do the autonomic stuff. he would come to my parent's house, he would drag me to a meeting, he would make me clean up. he would make me eat. he showed me how to go to a restaurant, how to order food, how to sit and be normal.
i danced because he made me dance. I sing because he let me know i didn't have to be ashamed of enjoying creating things. i write because he showed me that i have a right to be whomever i want to be, whatever that might be.
he was significant in building up the CA 12 step fellowship, not just here but in Ohio period. he played a part in building up the World Service level, a part i know nothing about. he was smart, well-spoken, clean, handsome, confident, funny, stern, caring and intuitive. he cared about people, from the depth of himself he cared about people. he got no credit for his work, he got no remembrance for the people he's helped. he got a bunch of betrayals and a bunch of ingratitude. and in the end, the fellowship he'd worked so hard for for so many years...turned its back on him. as it always does.
so how do you put all that into a poem?
i saw my grandson and my daughter for the first time since September yesterday. i went to lunch with them, i hung for a brief moment. my grandson is so big now. he says 'Hi' and 'Hello', he communicates mostly with attempts to communicate, if that makes sense. it was very emotional for me. i realize how much missing people affects me. it's not easy at all. to try to act like there's not a deficit of souls in my existence, just so i can balance out the sadness and the responsibility, is such an arduous chore. but you do what you have to do. in about 3 more weeks, i should be safe; i should be able to hold my grandson again. and i will. believe me, i will.
i have more to say, but not this morning. maybe tonight. thank you for waiting for me, though. i'll try to do better.
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