Dancin' with Mr. C - The Outing

©2017 by Lee Frederick Somerstein

Am I crazy? I’m actually looking forward to April 25th, my prostate cancer surgery. Bring it!

I’m in the best place I can be in a shitty situation. As far as we know the cancer is contained within the prostate and an earlier MRI shows nothing in the surrounding lymph nodes. They’ll check that under a microscope after they get that sucker out. But they have to get it out fast before it spreads and 4/25 is the soonest they can do it. I’ve reserved an extra room at the hospital for a prostate going away party.

As you can tell, my energy and my attitude remain high and I am astounded by the wave of good vibes flowing in from all of you. My humblest thanks; you have no idea how powerful you are.

Now, let’s move to the business at hand.

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You’ve read in my earlier posts that I am eliminating whatever negativity remains in my life. Except for my closest friends/family, I've never written or spoken about the only major remaining source of bad and it is time to stop hiding behind that as well.

Twelve years ago I divorced the woman who enabled me for the first 18-years of our marriage. She loved that role because I willingly gave her what she craved the most, power and control, especially over finances and parenting. When I got sober, her job description changed. I was back in the game and looking for – gasp! – equality. She didn’t like that one little bit but she was ready for me and not in a good way. 

Because of my addictive obsessions I was heedless of the verbal abuse she spewed for years about my Somerstein family and me. She never hesitated to do it in front of Paul Croft Somerstein and Leslie Jo Somerstein, the progeny of our union. As a result, by the time I reentered the family unit those kids were many gallons into Ellen Croft’s Kool-Aid.

I was “a loser” and it was all my fault. The Somersteins were “low book,” her term for trash. Even after I started recovery, I was still a loser even though recovery is something to celebrate.

Don’t get me wrong here; I am not dumping everything on Ellen Croft. For those first 18-years of our marriage I was a drunk, a liar, irresponsible, eventually unemployable and happy for her to rule the roost so I could drink and smoke my weed. That all changed when I entered Alcoholics Anonymous (AA) on June 10, 1998.

One of the major Steps (of the 12) in recovery is making amends to those you’ve harmed and, of course, we do the most (emotional) harm to those closest to us. In that way they are as ill as the alcoholic.

Making amends is not apologizing; it is about making things right wherever you can and three of the earliest amends I made were to Ellen Croft and her two children. Of course, there was no way I could undo all the havoc I’d wreaked but there is something in AA called a “Living Amend,” which is what I offered to the Troika. After taking responsibility for all I’d done – which in Ellen’s case took over two hours – I swore a solemn oath that I am living a new, wonderful life and the person they’d known to that point was dead. They never bought it and they wouldn’t accept the fact that they needed help as well. Ellen accused me of not telling her everything.

The bottom line, in 2005, when I finally realized Ellen and I would never again walk the same path, I asked for the divorce. I’ve never regretted it, except for one BIG consequence.  The kids took her side and we’ve been estranged for 12-years. I have two grandchildren who have no idea I exist.

Over this time I’ve always kept the communications door open, sent birthday greetings to Percy and Louise and let them know that I love them. Until last year, I harbored a deep, almost enjoyable hatred toward Ellen until I finally found a way to forgive her and hope she recovers from her emotional illness.

Sorry to bore you with all that but it is the context for my biggest act of shedding negativity, which I now share with you.

A few days ago I sent the following email to Ellen and her children:

“Elaine,

Read this email, please, and, if they haven’t received their copies, read or copy it to your children.

I’ve changed dramatically in the weeks since my cancer diagnosis (I left you a message which unsurprisingly went unanswered). In fact, my entire perspective on life and death is different.

I need all things positive in my life to help me in the coming health wars and I am fortunate to have a core group of caring and loving people providing support, great vibes and hope. Over the past 12-years I’ve wallowed in your vengeance, negativity and hate. I begged forgiveness for my perceived crimes. I begged to see my grandchildren. No more. This is the last time any of you will hear from me. This is no ploy or cry for sympathy. It is a carefully considered decision and it is liberating.

It’s taken 12-years – and the cancer diagnosis – to come to closure. I’ve finally let go. I don’t want any of you in my life and I most certainly don’t want any of you involved in my death. If word of my imminent demise reaches you, whether it’s ten weeks or ten years from now, ignore it – which I’m certain you would do anyway.

There are some things you should know.

In your thirst for my punishment, you missed the best of me, which I find so ironic. You experienced my active alcoholism but chose not to know the real me that emerged in sobriety. Maybe it’s because the process of sobriety and self-discovery evolves over the years. It doesn’t occur the instant you stop drinking. I always heard in meetings that it takes five years or more before you really discover your real self. 

The person you knew was a product of disease and despair. All you experienced was my early recovery and nascent rebirth. You then opted for vengeful estrangement, which translates into total negativity. You are welcome to hold onto that negativity and share it between yourselves for the rest of your lives. I am free of it.

What you’ve missed is a very good man, loving, caring and living in service to others, especially those closest to me. You’ve missed my growth as a writer; I’ve found a strong voice and I’m attracting an audience. Most of all, you’ve missed a very good father/grandfather with abundant love, counsel and wisdom to share.  Now, I’ve found peace within myself and take pleasure from the world and the people around me. I like who I’ve become, warts and all. I strive each day to work on my shortcomings.

Finally, I forgive the three of you for what you did; your actions were the result of the parts of the disease you “caught” from me. The emotional damage to members of alcoholic families is extreme.  In that sense, my disease affected you all deeply and emotionally. None of you accepted that fact. But, any anger I felt – more negativity – is gone. But, even though I forgive you, I will never forget what you did and the pain I allowed you to inflict.”

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By the time I wrote that email to Elaine and her children, the final die was cast. When I informed Elaine, Paul and Leslie about my cancer diagnosis, I didn't really expect Elaine to contact me. It was the deafening silence from her children that finally set me free.