|
New Hope =s A New
Life
I was your proverbial “tore up from the
floor up” when I arrived at the Fordham House from Doctor’s
Medical Center, March 15th of 2002. Beware the “ides of
March.” I for sure wasn’t ready to leave the comforts of
the hospital for a “dark” room in a house with a bunch of
strangers. The infamous “Detox Room.”
I’d been on the streets of Modesto for
around a year and a half. My “street address” was 1400
Yosemite. For those of you who are not familiar with the
southeast side of this fair city, that’s the Union Gospel
Mission. Thirty days “in” and 15 out. For me “out” was Moose
Park at night and Tower Park for lunch. Sometimes I’d stay a
week at the ElCapitan Motel down on Needham. There was a
liquor store, hot deli food and hookers across the street.
Continuous drinking of vodka with no
accessories (glass, ice or olives) had landed me in DMC. I
became a member of the “Zipper Club” when Bruce Tobin, M.D.
performed a quadruple by-pass.
After a couple of days my son-in-law,
Mark Evans, came by and said, “I’ve found a place for you to
go after you get out of here. It’s a treatment facility,
called New Hope. You live in this house they have. You do
groups and go to meetings. Do you think you’d be interested
in something like that?” “Yes,” I responded, “sign me up
for 60 days.” And so it began.
After the “fog” lifted (about 30 days
since I’d been on Vicodin for the hole in my chest), time
moved swiftly. At the end of my “contract,” staff said, “we
think you should stay with us another 30 days.”
My first inclination was to recite the
short version of the Serenity Prayer, but from somewhere in
the back reaches of what brain cells where working, a voice
whispered “where the Hell do you think you’re going?”
Surely not to 1400 Yosemite!
“I guess I’ll go ahead and stay,” was my
actual verbal response. That little phrase ended up on my
graduation certificate because, in spite of one huge
resentment, I stuck it out. I had also said somewhere along
the 60-day path I’d go to any length to stay sober. I didn’t
have to “LIKE” it, but I’d do it. New Hope taught me that.
New Hope was true to its word. In 90 days
I transitioned into Sober Living … down to five groups and a
family-group a week. I did what they suggested. I worked
the steps got, and talked to, a sponsor and did 128 meetings
in 90 days. “You can graduate,” New Hope said. “Do I have to
go to group any more?” I asked. “No, but Aftercare once a
week is free, for a year.”
I started going to Aftercare and in what
seemed like no time at all I’d done 52 consecutive meetings.
That was my significant event for that week!
New Hope taught me that significant
events didn’t have to be tragedies, like jail, death or
divorce.
New Hope taught me that there’s LIFE
after alcohol. They said the promises would come true as
well … I just had to work a program.
So I took their suggestions. And wonderful
things happened. My family started asking me to do things
with them … little ones, like CHRISTMAS and other holidays.
My son got a PAIR of season tickets to Cal basketball. My
grandson wanted Grandpa Art to watch him play soccer,
basketball and baseball. My granddaughter wanted to give me
hugs.
Not long after, New Hope said, “We’re
considering you to be manager of the men’s house. Would you
be interested?” No hesitation this time (what a difference
some time makes) “Yes!”
That was little more than a year ago.
Gee, what happened to “I’ll do 60 days?” What happened to “I
guess I’ll go ahead and stay and that resentment?”
New Hope taught me how to deal with life
as it is presented to me. Staff showed me that if I just
brake for speed bumps, instead of stomping on the throttle,
the ride wasn’t that rough.
I have a better life today than I’ve had
in a very long time, possibly the best it’s ever been. Thank
you New Hope!
Art Glattke
|