Clouds at Midnight

[Don S]

Spring 2001
Clouds are blowing in off the delta, creating a mackerel sky at midnight with a full moon peeking in and out. Walking down the county road with two dogs scampering along, and our silly black cat chasing shadows from behind us. With my mind less clear, I'd never be taking a walk in the breeze at midnight.

There were fields in great hues today: safflower blooming golden; young dark green tomato plants; field corn and sudangrass lush and bright green. I appreciated the pattern of well-ordered rows of almond and walnut trees as I drove past them on the way in to pick up my son, and the pattern of the light strobing in and out of the long row of black walnuts that lines the road as you enter town. I think of the song: "I wish I was a painter…that could paint red, green and blue…oh, I wish I was a painter…I'd paint a picture for you…." With my mind less clear, I'd hardly have noticed them.

Poor boy, not doing so well in school this year; working hard and so good-natured, but so disorganized. He called me again on my day off to be picked up. Sick to his stomach; wants to come home. Stomach-ache means stress. I know he's learning, and has many strengths, but 7th grade is a hard adjustment.

With my mind less clear, I probably wouldn't have noticed the contrasts of the fields and the blue sky, or the striking silhouette of lone walnut and oak trees against the outline of the coast range. I just would have driven in, probably anxious, feeling hassled, to pick up my kid. In a fog, irritable--he's sick on my day off, no less! I would probably have scowled when I went in to the office. As it was, he was so relieved and grateful to see me, his tummy-ache seemed to disappear….We're going to make this work, and I'm happy I can reduce his stress, not add to it. I have to be able to tell him that he's not a failure in my eyes, and I can only do that if my mind and eyes are clear as I talk to him.

Clear enough to see and appreciate his worries, his strengths, and feelings. Clear enough to appreciate all the nuances of a beautiful day. Clear and calm enough to deal placidly with the little obstacles that might come up on that day. Clear enough to take a walk at midnight when the rest of my family's asleep. Except, of course, two happy dogs and one silly black cat.
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Fall 2004
The walks at midnight continue, though with two black cats now. I have become my son's primary teacher as he does independent study. His schooling has been a huge priority for both of us since that stressful year. My relationship with my kids has been immeasurably strengthened by my sobriety and emotional health, even with significant changes in our lives.

Two nights ago he told me that he wanted to tell me something. That he had made some bad decisions in the past, as I was aware, about pot and alcohol. That he now knew that wasn't the way to deal with stress, and that he was just happy that he could come and talk to me about anything at all that was bothering him. That he wanted me to know how important it was to him that I had promised to quit drinking and done it. That he could count on me at any time of day or night, and that he considers me to be the greatest and most positive influence in his life. He just wanted to say that to me.

Noticing the details, appreciating the seasons, and building emotional health in my self and my family.

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Spring 2008
The walks at midnight continue, two different dogs but still one of the black cats. One dog leashed, lest he run off and hassle the neighbor’s alpacas; the other dutifully close at my heels, and the old black cat trotting along behind.

Tonight you can smell the sweet, skunky blossoms of plums along the county road, and you can hear a chorus of tree frogs further up at the other neighbor’s pond.

In two weeks my son graduates from a tech institute, trained and certified to repair auto engines. Full of ideas and plans, working two jobs, he has a healthy disinterest in drugs and a realistic attitude about alcohol. His friends have run the gamut in drug use and other behaviors, so he has learned that sometimes you can’t save people no matter how hard you try, and that you just have to let them drift away, while other friendships deepen. My daughter is in a distant land, keeps in touch when she can, and appreciates every letter, email, and package (will this war ever end?). She has a level head on her shoulders, a bright future, and a great, dry sense of humor.

The home schooling continued through high school. In the intervening years our home became the safe house for several of his friends. It is surprising how much damage parents do when they drink too much, and when they let their own troubles override their responsibilities. I have had kids sleeping here whose parents didn’t even know or care where they were. Teenagers who wanted to come here to dig holes and pull weeds. There’s a six-foot deep, twenty-foot wide hole, dug mostly at night by floodlight, waiting for a pond liner. There’s a shed – a shack, really – that we built where they can hang, play loud music, and where the ones with the vile nicotine habit have a place to smoke.

When you are sober you can provide a safe place. You have the time and energy, and perhaps the spontaneity, to do things with your kids. You can show that sobriety is possible and pleasurable, and that change is possible. With a clear mind, you can observe and appreciate the natural world and the people around you. You can enjoy the scents and sounds of a walk at midnight.

Don S