"A Homecoming"

Memoirs of a young man.

        My evening in Crestline, Ohio ended with a nice bit of nostalgic sentiment. I was in town to give a talk to a group of people about a problem we all shared.
           
          Being in Crestline was nothing new to me. I had previously lived there for six years. I had attended St.Joseph's Catholic school for the first six grades before my family moved to a small neighboring town.

            Growing up in Crestline was really a pleasant experience. Being made of youth and innocence, my mind and lifestyle reflected honesty and goodness with a touch of mischief. I appreciated life without giving it much thought. Not having my homework finished was about the only thing I had to fear in life.

          Most of my time was spent exploring rippling creeks and the treasures of its muddy bed. I strengthened my throwing arm by skipping stones at country fishing holes. Catching unsuspecting frogs sharpened my quickness and reflexes.
        
          I skinned my knees and elbows on the brick laid streets while I rollicked away on my bicycle. I became an acute student of the rules and skills of sports. I learned how to shoot and cheat at marbles and then the necessity to argue that I hadn't cheated but that is how we played at the other kids backyard.

          Those years taught me how to make fun of a girl in front of a group of guys and and be able to tell the same girl how pretty she was when no one else was around.

          More of the fascinations of life presented themselves during  those growing years. Later I came to yearn for that special time as the long days of adolescence turned into the fast years of adulthood.

           The freshness of learning turned stale. Honesty and innocence evaporated slowly, eventually draining a once full well. The enthusiasm of life was traded for the guilt and remorse of drinking.

            No longer were tennis shoes covered with dust from spending endless summer days on ball diamonds. Bright summer days were not turned into cool relaxing evenings while peacefully fishing. The anticipation of getting up early and spending all day with your buddies no longer existed. The naturalness of being content with oneself dried up. All that was left was a hunger for cleanliness.

             My evenings became full of sitting in bars drinking while the mornings labored with the suffering of recovery. The tender feelings that bonded me with my Creator were stripped away. My woods,creeks and ball fields became bar rooms and taverns. I was now only faithful to one thing, the bottle.

               From a bar stool I was alienated from nature. I became a prisoner of reeking smells and filth. My mind was filled with frustration and hopelessness. The butterfly had returned to the cocoon and came back as a diseased snake. Everything that was pure was now black. Nothing shined.

               The refection of God's Image in my soul was blank. Only the painful hunger for that reflection existed. Within that hunger a small speck of hope lay. The last bit of true life I owned. If somehow it was nurtured, it may be able to break through the darkness.

                 Pleading prayers and a desperate will brought a rescuing calvary to my aid. People like myself who had tasted that foul scum and were now free, gently picked me up. They carried me to spiritual fountain which cleansed me. These soldiers of mercy instilled a strength of purity to my tired bones. The marrow of goodness began to flow again. I could look at God with crystal clear eyes and talk to Him with gratitude.

                 The sickness was going away. I was no longer a caged animal but a decent human being again. I could taste life once more. The only debt I had to pay was to share the knowledge of freedom to those who were still prisoner. To give away what was given to me.

                 This was the reason I was speaking in Crestline tonight. To spread the message that there are keys to open those dungeon doors. Tools to build foundations of sobriety. And a Higher Power to make it all possible.

                I gave my talk in the basement of a church. I turned my thoughts and words over to God. For it is in His presence that healing takes place. When I had completed my message I felt refreshed.

               Leaving the church I crossed the street still laid with bricks to where my truck was parked. Then it hit me. My truck was parked in front of where our old house once stood. a new apartment complex was there now.

               My eyes immediately visioned our two story house with the full stone front porch. Beautiful woodwork with thick double doors of heavy oak. That house had heard our laughter and contained our tears. Its rooms had felt my brother and sister take their first steps. It had heard my prayers and protected me as I dreamed in bed. It was gone from the street but it stood strong in my heart.

               Slowly I reached down and touched the wet grass and felt the cool earth beneath it. It was like shaking hands with an old friend. With the dew and dirt on my finger tips I slowly blessed myself.

               It was good to truly be home again.
        

Reviews

[Great Aunt Astri]

I like that ... coming home to your childhood home, and coming home to your heart's centre. I think you have written this story very well. It is clearly written with descriptive details in long and short sentences. Nothing wrong with grammar, spelling, repetition etc. and it held my attention. And there is the 'teaching' point. It is always so reassuring when one hears of someone changing 'bad' ways for 'good' ones.

[richieb]

Thank you for your sound review. Your words are inspiring.
Blessings,read more Thank you for your sound review. Your words are inspiring.
Blessings,
Richie b.

[Great Aunt Astri]

You are welcome

[Kathy Van Kurin]

Richie,
Well this has really been an important reminder of the pitfalls that come with our choices. The contrast of beauty and wholeness woven through this piece show the reality of what life is meant to be. Choices-decisions all of humanity experiences this reality made real in results and/or consequences. Beautiful ending tied with a bow of comfort, of good, of hope for the future. God our help with us in the dance of dark and light, shadow and bright sparkling light.
Blessings,
Kathy

[Shep]

The butterfly had returned to the cocoon and came back as a diseased snake. Everything that was pure was now black. Nothing shined.

I can relate to the words above and found the story intriguing eye-catching. also loved the journey you set me upon from beginning to end and wanted more as ended too soon for my taste. meaning it was to short...nicely done

[richieb]

Thank you Shep for your review. There is plenty of material that can be fit into this story. Maybe it will be my personal memoir. I am glad you liked it.
Peace,
Richie b.

[NotUsinganymore]

Veyr nice. Sometimes coming back home can be great but I don’t think that it for me. The story had a good flow and I enjoyed it.

[richieb]

JungLee,
Thank you for reading,it is good to hear from you. Some day Heaven will be our homecoming and we will share great joy and peace.
Richie b.

[Annette Pisano-Higley]

I applaud you for your courage and strength my friend. Your story shows that no matter how idyllic ones’ circumstances might be, it is so easy to take that one mis-step that leads to a self-destructive fall. Alcoholism is an equal-opportunity disease- it is not selective. Thank God for dropping those angels of mercy and recovery in your path when you hit rock-bottom. You took their hands and lifted yourself from the depths. Congrats on your sobriety, your life success and your wonderfully touching story Richie. God bless you and I wish you all the best in your future.

[richieb]

Thank you Annette for your kind and moving words. Only by the Grace of God.
Many Blessings,
Richie b.

[Carol Cashes]

This is the story of countless small town alcoholics. It is a shame and very sad that too few find redemption and never find their way out. Your descriptions of the dark years reminds me of the song Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapleton. In one verse the words are "found the bottom of the bottle alway dry" and they seem to explain the need to find another bottle.

Everything is here...except why. His innocent childhood and his morphing into a young adult. How dark, colorless, dismal the drinking years were. It's a rite of passage to drink beer and party some, but why did he falter? Did he never marry as young small town men tend to do?

I can't stand not knowing! *laughing*

[richieb]

This is an accurate memoir. My family on both sides are of Eastern European stock. Alcoholism runs rampant in my family. What started as weekend partying got out of hand fast By the time I 26years old I started to attend A.A. meetings. They saved my life. I met my wife at a meeting and one year later we were married. We are going on 35 years of marriage and 36 years of sobriety. All by the Grace of God.
Peace and Joy,
Richie b.

[emmajoy]

Your story, truth laid start to finish with mere touches of the final outcome - is a brilliant example of how to be what one was born to be. Finding Self takes amazing courage, you found it where it had been all along.. and, shines now as a good man does - and can. Returning home has so many meanings.. often that going away doesn't exist in the heart.

'Slowly I reached down and touched the wet grass and felt the cool earth beneath it. It was like shaking hands with an old friend. With the dew and dirt on my finger tips I slowly blessed myself. It was good to truly be home again.' Methinks you were never really away, richlieb.

[richieb]

Emmajoy,
Thank you for a wonderful review.
Peace,
Richie b.

[emmajoy]

Edited my review, was such a mess, so sorry.

[Onlyme]

Oh, this gave me goosebumps. Going home to our childhood home. The memories that come flooding back, just like your story. Wonderfully descriptive open and honest, sweet and powerful reminders of our young. Who we hung out with kissed and made an imprint on our daily lives back then. A photograph album. Inside our mind, heart and soul. Never to be thrown away or lost.

[richieb]

Dawn,
Thank you for your thoughtful review. Our past can bring tears of joy and pain.
Blessings,
Richie b.

[Onlyme]

That is so very true Richie, you have a great insight into life and how you express yourself. Enjoy reading your story. I will be back. thanks again. Dawn.

[Dinesh Kumar]

nice poem i really enjoyed reading it

[Hannah]

This is a really powerful and inspiring story. You have great strength of character.

[richieb]

Hannah,
Thank you for your kind review. I was 26 years old when I quit drinking and by the Grace Of God , I am still sober at 63 years old.
It was great hearing from you, I hope you are doing well.
Peace,
Richie b.