by Thornton, EJ
The Lord spoke directly to Jeremi's heart. The Lord stroked his head and chill bumps appeared all over Jeremi. "Jeremi, you know the way. Follow the light of love and you will never be lost. I will carry you when you are too weak to do it alone. You will feel my love for you when you are lonely. You will be healed if only you ask."
Then the Lord looked at George and me. "Be strong, my angels." He left and the light eventually faded.
Jeremi fell off his knees and readjusted himself, sitting on the floor. He leaned against the couch and stared into space. His look was deep and troubled. He rubbed his arms where his chill bumps had been. Jeremi sat there for about half an hour, with the same soul-searching look on his face, then he got up and went back to his room.
He knelt by the side of his bed and prayed aloud. "Jesus, I need your help. I want to get sober. Please Lord, please help me. In your name, I pray. Amen." Jeremi got up off his knees and climbed into his bed and soon fell asleep. For the first time since I'd died, he slept peacefully. He'd finally fought off all those demons. His heartfelt prayer chased them all away.
Chapter 25
George told me to tell the other angels our good news; he'd stay with Jeremi and summon me, if need be. I left to thank Glory, Naomi, Sarah, Grandmama, Pearl, Jeannie, Edwina, Marie, Peter and William and all the rest of the angels and people who prayed for us.
I spent the night with Glory afterward. I told her everything that was going on. When morning came, I went back to the hospital. Pearl was there with George. She'd told him the story of Jeannie's day yesterday. She repeated it for my benefit.
"Her friend Anne decided to whisk her off to the border town casino for the night. It was about a two-hour drive. They talked a lot on the way and Jeannie cried a lot. When they got there, they played roulette for a little bit. Jeannie's ,mind was elsewhere, too much downtime between spins, too much time to think about her situation. So they decided to take in a show, with a young comedian who made them both laugh. That was really good for them. When Jeannie was ready to leave, she pretty much had a smile on her face, but on the way out of the casino she stopped short and told Anne she wanted to try something. She took a silver dollar she'd won at the roulette table and put it in the last machine before the door. As she put the money in, she said, 'I need a crib for the baby' --she was having trouble budgeting a crib in between now and the end of the month. The lights on the machine started flashing. Jeannie realized she'd won something, but was having a dickens of a time trying to figure out what. She won a hundred dollars. The crib she wanted cost ninety-two dollars.
"Since there was plenty in her reserves, we gave her the needed boost. It was Robin's idea, but we made it happen. She and Anne are going out to buy the crib today."
"So you and Anne are keeping her mind off her problems here with Jeremi?" I asked.
"We're trying," Pearl said.
"What are her reserves?"
"Heaven keeps track of your giving, your generosity," Pearl explained. "If you give a lot, Heaven allows you to receive a lot. The converse also being true, when you take, you are taken from. The reserves or the debt, is what we call it. When we want to do something extra-special for our charges, we need to check the reserves. If it is enough to win the lottery, that'd be great, but if your charge is generous, then there are extra rewards in Heaven and on Earth. Jeannie gave away all her baby furniture to needy people after she got her divorce. Much of what she has now for the baby has been given to her, now that she's in need. She never expected all the help she's received and is amazed at the generosity extended to her, but since she gave it away first, it's been returned to her. It's simply how it works."
I really did know that, but to learn that there was an actual system in place that dealt was fascinating.
Jeremi started to stir.
"I'll let you gentlemen get back to your work now. I'll be praying for you," she said.
"We'll be praying for you, Jeannie and the children likewise," George said.
Pearl left.
Jeremi sat up in the bed and rubbed his eyes. He looked around to get his bearings. He rubbed his arms like he'd done the night before, remembering, I think, what had given him his chill bumps last night. He got out of bed and went to the window to look out. He took a deep breath.
He stood there for a few minutes, then the nurse and Constance came in to wake everyone for the day. "You're looking better today," the nurse told Jeremi quietly.
"Yeah," Jeremi said.
"Are you hungry yet?"
Jeremi thought for about half a second, then he said, "Yeah."
"I'm glad to hear that. Breakfast will be in a few minutes."
"Good," Jeremi said.
The nurse smiled, I think surprised to hear such a pleasant tone out of the man she'd had to wrestle up off the floor yesterday. "You'd be smart to get into the bathroom and freshen up before I wake up your roommates."
Jeremi went right in, with a noticeable little spring in his step. The nurse shook her head in disbelief at the changes.
Constance told us how happy she was for his transformation. The nurse woke up Don and Tony and then left. When Jeremi came out of the bathroom, Don was waiting to go in. "Good morning, friend," Don said.
"Yes, it is. Don? Right?" Jeremi said. "I'm Jeremiah, call me Jeremi." Jeremi extended his hand.
Don nodded and took the opportunity to shake the hand that had been refused him the night before. "This is Tony." Don pointed over to the bed.
"Hey, man." Tony waved from the bed.
"Hey," Jeremi replied.
Don went into the bathroom and Jeremi sat on the edge of his bed. "So what are we supposed to be doing?" Jeremi asked Tony.
"We'll go to breakfast, then group, then lunch, then group, then counseling, then dinner, then group. Then tomorrow, we do it all over again," Tony said in a dry, monotone voice.
"Okay," Jeremi said hesitantly detecting Tony's negative tone.
"Next," Don said cheerfully on his way out of the bathroom. Tony took his turn. Don put some things away in the dresser by the bed and asked Jeremi, "Are you ready for breakfast?" Don went to the door and held it for him.
"Do you want to wait for Tony?"
"He knows his way," Don assured him. Jeremi shrugged his shoulders and left with Don. They went down the hallway into the cafeteria. Both Don and Jeremi loaded up their trays with breakfast food, fruits, cereals, toast and juices. Jeremi started out ravenously, but quickly maxed out.
"What's up with this?" he asked Don, "I was so hungry. But if I eat another bite, I think I'll get sick."
"Happens," Don said chewing his toast. "You're really used to drinking your meals." Jeremi looked down, like that statement embarrassed him. "It's okay--that's how we all were."
Jeremi looked back at Don, surprised. "Nobody understood me ever before in my life..." Jeremi just stared at him.
"Man, we all understand. We've all been there and some are still there. That's why you're here. If it's any consolation, I only ate about half of what you just did at my first meal. But now look at me." Don stuffed the rest of his toast in his mouth and gulped some juice. Then he sat back and patted his stomach. Once he swallowed, he continued, "I've been here nine days now and I think I've gained at least fifteen pounds."
"Is that going to be Jeremi in a few days?" I asked Claude.
"God willing and some hard work."
"That's hard to imagine." I said.
"It's probably hard for Jeremi to imagine that, too."
After breakfast, Don told his story to Jeremi. "About two weeks ago, I decided to take lunch at a bar across from my work, instead of the building's cafeteria. I was having a really bad morning . . . you know, the boss wanted me to work." Jeremi cracked a slight smile. "You know how they can be demanding like that." Jeremi nodded. "Well, I ordered up a burger and a beer. The beer came first, naturally, and it was gone in nothing flat. So I ordered another. Well, it was gone by the time I got the burger, so I ordered another with my meal. T
hen I decided, what the Hell, let them wait. So I got one more for the road, you know." Jeremi nodded again. "Well, I finally went back to work, about half an hour late. The boss left a note on my desk. He put the time on it, just to let me know that he knew I had taken a long lunch. Well, that just chapped my . . . well, you know. I mean, how dare he want me to come back in on time?" Jeremi cracked another little smile, every time Don's tone got more and more outrageous.
"So I sat there and decided to read this manual, you know, look like I was busy. But it was the most boring thing I'd ever read and the next thing I know, my boss is waking me up by tapping me on the shoulder. He said 'Can I see you in my office, please?'" Jeremi grimaced. "Well, it was my fifth write-up in three months. He fired me, then and there. I grabbed my stuff and went home. I hated telling my wife. I told her what a jerk my boss was, etcetera, etcetera, but she told me she could smell the beer on my breath still. I told her that was because I stopped on the way home, that it had nothing to do with the job. But she knew I was lying. Anyway, I filed for unemployment; it was denied. I decided I'd rather drink than worry about looking for work. So, I sat on the couch and drank beer all day long, starting first thing in the morning and all through until evening.
"My son--he's thirty-five--came for a 'surprise' visit. She'd called him and the next thing I know, I'm a resident here at the Hope Center. It was hard on me being here, especially at first, but it was twice as hard for her to stand up to me like that. That took guts. That took real love. It was the best thing she could've done for me. I'm just sorry I made it so hard for her."
Jeremi listened intently to every word. A bell interrupted their conversation. Don looked at the clock on the wall. "Well, friend, it's time for us to go to group." Jeremi followed Don and put up the dishes. They walked down to the same room they had been in the night before.
"I hope that weird guy's in some other group," Jeremi said to Don.
"There's only one 'group.' What weird guy?" Don asked.
Jeremi tried to talk using his hands, but nothing was coming out. "Never mind," he finally said. When Jeremi entered, he scoped out everyone in the room carefully, but failed to find the "weird guy." Claude was doubled over laughing at Jeremi's expressions. George and I also enjoyed the show..
Don and Jeremi sat on the couch. Some people were already in the room, Tony among them. Some still filtered in from breakfast. By the time everyone got there, there were about eighteen people. Bills Sr. and Jr. came in the room and spied Jeremi right off. Bill Jr. smiled at Jeremi. Jeremi made eye contact with him, and for now, that was enough.
"Well, let's get started today, shall we?" Bill Jr. began. "Let's start with saying the first three steps. Number one."
Many members of the group chanted, "We admit we are powerless over alcohol or drugs, that our lives had become unmanageable." Jeremi took a breath, but stayed quiet.
"Number two," Bill said.
Again they said in unison, "We have come to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity."
Jeremi rubbed his arm like he had last night and looked up to the sky.
"Number three," Bill said.
"We've made a decision to turn our will and our life over to the care of God as we understand God."
Jeremi nodded slightly and looked down at his hands folded in his lap.
"Okay, good start." Bill was full of enthusiasm. "Last night, we discussed one of the great lies of an addiction. 'That we are only hurting ourselves.' Many of you saw your families last night right after that. Is there anything anyone would like to share?"
A few people looked around the group sheepishly. I think they wanted to share, but were hesitant to go first.
"I do," Don said after there'd been several seconds of awkward silence. "When she got here, I gave Deanna a huge hug and apologized to her for everything. I've apologized before, of course, but it was the first time since I really thought about what life was like for her living with all my lies, temper and bad attitude. I truly hope some day I can make it up to her."
"I know what you mean." A woman across the room spoke up. "When I finally put myself in my daughter's shoes. I could feel how she must've felt because she was embarrassed to have her friends over because I'd always be drunk or drinking. It really hurt."
I watched Jeremi as the discussion went on. His look was distant, but his head turned in the direction of each of the new speakers, so I think he listened to what was said, but his thoughts were somewhere else. I wondered if he thought about people his drinking affected. He might have been thinking about Jeannie or Glory, Peter or Sarah, his first wife, or maybe me. Wherever he was, he was definitely in a better place than a couple of days ago.
The conversation went on for about half an hour. People related how they finally realized they'd really hurt other people, especially those closest to them. Then it diverged into related topics for the rest of the session. Jeremi never did speak up. Claude and Bill Sr. encouraged us about the progress he had already made.
After the session was over, Bill found Jeremi and two other new pajama-clad arrivals and handed them the necessary books and a book bag. There was a big notebook and some smaller books.
"Before our next session, I want you to read the daily inspiration." He took a small book out of Jeremi's bag, found the day's date on a page and showed it to the three. "We'll get you caught up on your assignments later. There will be plenty for you to do and throughout your recovery. These books are yours to keep." Bill patted Jeremi on the back as he left.
The three looked at each other briefly and the man on Jeremi's left mouthed the word "Assignments?" with a slightly panicked look. Jeremi chuckled a little, took his new belongings and sat down on the couch. He started to look through them. He held the daily inspirations book on his lap. Then he briefly rifled through the rest of the bag. He opened the daily inspirational book to today's date:
"When we first come to Recovery, the most common form of self-pity begins: 'Poor me! I should be able to drink just like everybody else! Why me?' Such bemoaning is a surefire ticket right back to the mess we were in before we came. When we stick around Recovery for a while, we discover that being alone in this struggle is a thing of the past--we become involved with people from all walks of life, who are in exactly the same boat. Ask yourself: Am I learning all I can about how others have dealt with their problems so I can apply these lessons to my own life?"
It looked like Jeremi read and reread that passage. Then one by one he looked around the room at the people who had spoken in the last group session. He seemed lost, deep in thought, when Bill called them all back together again.
"So who wants to read today's passage?" Bill asked the group when they reconvened.
A lady across the room did.
"And. . ." Bill encouraged more conversation.
The same lady who had read the passage offered, "When I came here, I felt so isolated, like I was crazy, and that nobody in the world could possibly understand what I was going through. I thought, for some bizarre reason, that I was special, somehow, in my misery. Once I opened up to the process, I realized in a less than a day that this is a disease, with specific symptoms and that runs a specific course, just like the chickenpox. The details in everyone's life may be a little different, but we are all suffering in the same way. It really does help to go through this with people who understand."
There was a little bit of a murmur in the group, mostly of agreement and support for the speaker.
Then Jeremi spoke up, "I've only been here a couple of days,." The murmuring stopped in respect for the speaker. "But I was doing what this quote said, especially the first night I was here, blaming everyone in the world but myself for landing here. But something happened to me the second night I was here, it's hard to describe, but I realized that I wanted to get sober. I came in here and listened to you guys talk and really listened, you know? It's helping me because I can relate to what you're saying and to what you did. I can see myself in th
ose exact circumstances and I-I-I'm learning a lot."
There was more murmuring after Jeremi finished and a couple of "Good for you's."
Claude winked at us and said, "See, I told you." George and I smiled, very proud of Jeremi for this first big leap of faith.
Another voice contributed to the conversation. "I was doing the same thing as. . .what was your name, friend?" he asked.
"Jeremi," he answered.
"I was doing the same thing as Jeremi here did, at first. But when I listened to the other people in the group, especially the ones who'd been here for a few more days than I had, I did finally get it. They made a difference for me. I think they were the difference between life and death-really-I know that sounds dramatic, but it's true. If I were alone in my hospital room, like I imagined places like this to be, I would've just withered away. We need to talk. We need to get it out. We need each other."
This group session continued with lots of people expressing deep gratitude for the fact that they were together in this struggle. Some broke down and cried. Others hugged those who had testified, specifically made a difference to them. Many praised Bill for his candor about his recovery and his subsequent decision to be a counselor. It was a very emotional group session.
When lunchtime came, it seemed that everyone was wiped out, emotionally and physically. They dragged themselves down to the lunchroom for soup and sandwiches. Jeremi ate with Don, Bill, and Eric, the fellow who'd spoken up right after he did. Eric's angel's name was Floyd. After all the introductions, they sat down to eat.
"So what's your story, Jeremi?" Eric asked candidly as he took a bite of his sandwich.
Jeremi looked a little panicked to be put on the spot like that. He shrugged his shoulders, "What do you want to know?"
"Start with how long have you been here?" Eric suggested.
"A couple of days."
"Who brought you here?"
"My brother. My brother, Peter."
"What happened?"
"It was either agree to come here or he go to jail for 60 days or better," Jeremi answered.
