Angel On Board - Guardian Angel 101

by Thornton, EJ

  When morning came, Don got up early and packed his things. He tiptoed around the room. He certainly was excited to be going home. When the nurse came in to wake them up, Don was sitting on the edge of the bed with his suitcase beside him. He smiled like he was keeping a secret.

  "I'm going to miss you, Don," the nurse said.

  "I'm going to miss you too, Claude," Constance echoed.

  "Me, too," Don and Claude said in unison.

  The nurse woke Jeremi and Tony. Then as she left, winked at Don. He, in turn, blew her a kiss.

  "Did you sleep well?" Don asked Jeremi.

  "Pretty good."

  "What about you, Tony?" Don asked.

  "Yeah, yeah," Tony said rudely as he went into the bathroom.

  "I hardly slept," Don said. "I am so ready to get out of here."

  Jeremi smiled at him. "So when do you get to leave?"

  "After afternoon group, just before visiting hours." Don answered.

  Tony came out of the bathroom and left for breakfast. Jeremi went in and freshened up. The nurse came in while Jeremi was in the bathroom and put his clean and folded clothes on his bed, as well as another bag of clothes, which I presumed Peter had brought in. She stood there with Don as Jeremi came out of the bathroom; then both she and Don smiled at Jeremi.

  Jeremi was clueless as to why they were smiling and checked himself out. "What? Do I have something on my behind?" He looked over his shoulder. Don and the nurse laughed.

  Then Jeremi looked over at the bed. "My clothes!" He went over and picked up the shirt and smelled it. "Clean, even. Cool." He looked at the nurse. "You mean I can change into these and out of these nasty PJs?"

  "Well, you have to wait until I leave the room first," she said as she nodded. Jeremi put his hand on his hip, tapped his foot impatiently and looked at her, like it was time for her to leave now. "Okay! Okay. I'm going! Congratulations for making street clothes. You're doing great." She left.

  "Thank you," Jeremi said graciously after her. He picked up the shirt and smelled it again. "You never know what you got until it's gone. This is my new favorite shirt!"

  "Well, you made it part of the way. Now you'll have to make it the rest of the way without me. But you can do it. Just trust in God and believe in yourself and remember your dreams."

  Jeremi stopped dressing and made eye contact with Don for a couple of seconds, then he said sincerely, "I will."

  "Well, you better. If I have to come back here and whup your behind, I'm gonna be dammed disappointed!"

  Jeremi gave him an "Are you serious?" look, and smiled through it all. They both laughed some more. So did we all. It was nice to see this friendship develop.

  Jeremi started to rifle through the other bag; it held some more clothes--right on the top was my old letterman's sweater. "I'm glad Peter packed that for him," I said to George.

  "You're sure it was Peter?" George asked me.

  "Did you do that?" I asked him. He never did answer me. So I watched Jeremi as he pulled it out of the bag and smelled it, too. He clutched it tight to his breast.

  "Are you okay, Jeremi?" Don asked, concerned that his demeanor had changed so quickly.

  "This was Dad's," Jeremi said to Don. "Do you have any idea how special this sweater is to me?"

  "Please tell me why that sweater is so special."

  Jeremi put it on over his clothes. "This makes me feel like my dad is here with me, y'know."

  "I know." Don consoled him and patted him on the back.

  They went off to breakfast.

  "George, do you think anyone is coming to see Jeremi tonight at visitation?" I asked as we walked down the hall.

  "Well, I'm sure we can arrange it."

  I nodded. "Do you want me to go, or you?"

  "You go. I'll stay here and take care of Jeremi."

  I wanted to check on everybody. Then I'd decide who I'd encourage to visit him. I checked on Glory first; she and Sarah were eating breakfast and talking, Naomi and Grandmama close by. I checked on Jeannie, who was hard at work, typing on her computer--Pearl playfully reminded me to stay in front of her--her friend Judie was working, as well. I went to check on Peter; he and Melinda were talking.

  William was there. "Hello, Martin," he greeted me. "How's it going with Jeremi?"

  "He just graduated to his street clothes."

  "Fantastic!"

  "Tonight is visitation. Does Peter know? Is he going?"

  "Yes, he knows it's tonight. He's apprehensive about going, though."

  "Why not?"

  "He's afraid Jeremi might still be angry with him for leaving him there. He'd really rather avoid reliving that night. Peter's problem is that he's oblivious to Jeremi's progress. So the last experience he had of Jeremi is one of anger. To hope for something different, well -"

  "I understand that. What do we have to do to change that?"

  "I'd guess that if he picked up some of that literature over there, we could make it read pretty good." He pointed to the pile of alcoholism literature that had come in the mail recently.

  "It needs to address this specific issue."

  "It will."

  William and I both shined our angel light on the stack of pamphlets on the counter. Peter finished his conversation with Melinda abruptly because he'd become distracted. He went over to the stack and thumbed through it until he saw a pamphlet headed While They're Recovering -- The Family's Perspective. Peter picked it up and went straight to the section entitled Curing Apprehension Through Involvement, which said: "Unless the family is allowed to keep in contact during the first few days of the recovery, the old relationships and situations keep playing in their heads. The actual progress of the individual in therapy is unknown, so their last impression of the alcoholic is the one they usually hold to. This is unfair to the alcoholic in recovery. Whether their progress is quick or slow, their perspective changes with every passing day. The family is an integral part of the healing process and they should be encouraged to be a part of the recovery at every opportunity."

  Peter put the pamphlet down and stared at the floor for a bit. Then he announced to Melinda, "I'm going to visit Jeremi tonight."

  Melinda looked up from the newspaper she was reading at the table and said, "I thought you were still thinking about it."

  "I was, and now I've made my decision."

  "What helped you decide?"

  "This," Peter said and showed her the pamphlet.

  "Where'd that come from?" She got up and took it from him and examined it.

  "It was here in the pile," Peter said.

  "Hmmm," Melinda said and spread out the pile and thumbed through it probably to see what else she might have missed.

  "She's read most of them," William said to me. "I guess I threw her for a loop. Oh well."

  Melinda shrugged her shoulders and took the pamphlet from Peter to read it. When she finished she told him, "Good luck. Give him our love."

  "I will," Peter said. They were both quiet for a moment. "I better call and find out what time specifically."

  "Seven to nine," Melinda told him.

  Peter smiled and kissed her. Then he went up to his bedroom. She continued to look at the pamphlet, turned it over, flipped through the pages, then she finally shrugged her shoulders. "I must've missed this one." She put it back on the counter top in the stack from whence it came.

  "Good work," I told William.

  He grinned. "Well, we'll see you tonight then."

  "See you then," I said and left.

  When I got back to the hospital, they were in group. They discussed making amends to people, without being specific about who these people were to them, the recoverees were encouraged to share ideas on what to say or how to make up for some of the bad times that had come before. Love was the presiding theme. If the person was still in their lives or they wanted them back in their lives, the message was just to love them.

  Jeremi contributed from time to time, and listened, but he was also writing in his
book so intensely I thought it must be something incredibly sensitive and personal. When I saw what it was, I was surprised: doodles! He was drawing pictures. However, these pictures were around the names Jeannie, Marshal, Lynne, Carole and Jeremi. It was cute. He made it like a puzzle. When Jeannie and Marshal shared an "A." Lynne and Marshal shared the "L." Lynne and Carole shared the "E" and Carole and Jeremi shared the "R." Then it came back full circle and Jeannie and Jeremi shared the "J."

  "That's interesting," George said.

  "It certainly is," I said. "All those names fit together like that. Was that part of the plan too?"

  George smiled and said, "We need to make sure the baby's name gets to be Marshal."

  "With one 'l.'" I said smugly. George snickered.

  Group ended and lunch came and went.

  As soon as the afternoon group session began, Bill started it by going over to Don and presenting him with a coffee cup with the serenity prayer printed on the side. "Now remember two things, Don. First, repeat this prayer every day until it becomes second nature and every day after that just because. And," Bill paused and tried to conceal his smile when he said, "this is a coffee cup." The joke was just the comic relief the group needed as several of the women were close to tears.

  Bill gave Don a hug and said, "I'll see you in the outpatient groups."

  "Now let's tell Don what we wish him," Bill said to the group. "I'll start," he cleared his throat. "Don, I wish you sobriety. I wish you a personal relationship with God. May He always protect you."

  Claude, who stood right beside Don, said, "That's right."

  "And I wish you love, in life, with your beautiful wife, your son and all your friends, many of whom are in this room. Finally, I wish you peace," Bill finished.

  One by one, those who wanted to speak up, spoke and offered Don words of encouragement and love. Jeremi basically echoed the sentiments of Bill, but added, "And I wish you good weather for your barbecue tonight." Don chuckled as he brushed another tear back.

  Don was then excused from the group, as his wife had arrived to pick him up. He waved good-bye from the door and said, "I'll never forget any of you." Claude left with him. He echoed the same sentiments to us. We returned the same to him.

  Chapter 28

  Group broke up shortly thereafter and everyone was dismissed to their rooms or to their private counseling sessions. Jeremi sat with a new group of people at dinner. Most talked with excitement about visitation tonight. "So who's coming to see you, Jeremi?" the woman across the table from him asked.

  "Nobody," Jeremi replied, depressed. "I'll guess I'll watch TV in the solarium."

  "That's too bad," she consoled him.

  Jeremi picked at his food the rest of the meal.

  As dinner finished, individuals were called one by one to the front desk as their visitors arrived. Jeremi was in his own world. He retreated to the solarium and tried to watch a movie on TV. His name was announced three times. By the third time, the nurses were all looking for him.

  One finally found him. "Jeremi!" she said loud enough to get his attention over the TV.

  "Huh?" he looked up.

  She pointed up at the ceiling, in the direction of the closest speaker. "You should listen once in a while, they've been calling your name. You have a visitor."

  "I do?"

  "They've called you three times. I hope they're still here. You better hurry!"

  Jeremi jumped up and followed the nurse, who took him to the place to greet the visitors. Jeremi smiled broadly when he saw Peter. Peter was somber until he saw how good Jeremi looked, then he smiled, too. They embraced.

  "He does look good," William said to George and me. We had to agree.

  They walked down the hallway to an empty room with couches in it. They sat down.

  "So, how are you, my brother?" Peter asked enthusiastically.

  "I'm pretty good."

  "Just pretty good?"

  "Well, I'm fine, really. Probably better than I've been in a long, long time. But I'm just . . . frankly, I'm embarrassed that it had to come to this." Peter nodded. "I'm sorry, man. I'm sorry for what happened." Peter hugged him and Jeremi broke down. After a couple of seconds, they broke apart. Jeremi wiped his eyes. "How's Jeannie? Tell me she's all right. Tell me she, the baby and the girls are all right."

  Peter nodded. "She went to the doctor yesterday, I believe. He said 'Everything is okay.'" Jeremi heaved a sigh of relief. "I've seen her once since all this started, but Melinda's called her almost every day to make sure she's all right. She got a crib for the baby. I guess she and her friend won it at the slot machines." Jeremi looked at him strangely. "It sounded a little strange to me too - winning a crib on slots, I guess we'll just get the whole story later." They both shrugged their shoulders. "They got it put together, which must've been a story in itself."

  "That's the truth," I told George and William.

  "Do you think she'll ever talk to me again?" Jeremi asked Peter.

  "Well, she's pretty hurt by everything. You know her emotions are extra strong, being pregnant and all. But I think she'll talk to you again, I think that'll happen. She's this interesting cross between mad as hell at you and worried to death about you."

  Jeremi smiled slightly. "Me, too--at me, I mean."

  "What's been happening since you got here?"

  "Well, it's been weird. I never would've expected it to go this way. The first day is a total blur. Some people have told me I had really bad DTs. I suppose I must've because I know, I was pretty out of it." Peter nodded. "The second night, I was just plain mad. I blamed everyone and his brother," Jeremi glanced at Peter, "for my being here. That it was some big set up, like I was this innocent victim."

  "Did that change?" Peter asked.

  "Oh yeah," Jeremi answered. Peter sighed. "The counselor and I had this heart-to-heart. He led me down his merry path. I thought he was on my side, that it was this big conspiracy and stuff and then pow, he let me have it." He punched his hand.

  "How?" Peter asked eagerly.

  "By replaying all the same events but from the other person's perspective. Then he told me to get out, that I was free to leave because his time was too valuable to waste."

  "So then what happened?" Peter was wide-eyed.

  "I just sat here, actually." Jeremi looked around the room. "I sat over there and I thought about it. I really seriously thought about what life would be like again if I left, without getting better. What next week would look like, what next month would look like, next year. I realized that I deserved better than the life I was dooming myself to live. It felt like Dad was talking to me and telling me this was my chance. That this was where I needed to be." Jeremi got his chill bumps on his arm again. He rubbed them. "Then, you remember at his funeral? You remember the light?" Peter nodded. "I saw it again. From that moment on, it's been all right. I've just been learning and trying to figure out what to do next."

  "Wow," Peter said, impressed.

  Jeremi leaned back in his chair with a smile. "Yeah."

  "So, what's next? When can you go home?"

  "I'm hoping just a few more days. Maybe I'll be out by the weekend."

  "Whatever day you get out, we'll make the best dinner you ever had. What do you want?"

  "Jeannie and the girls to be there," Jeremi said after he paused to think about it.

  Peter smiled, nodded and said, "I'll do everything in my power to make that happen for you, bro."

  "So will I," I said softly. George patted me on the back.

  They visited for about another hour. Jeremi told Peter the rest of the story of his experiences here, from the "weird guy" the second night, all about Don, all about Bill, the nurses, to the baby's name. Jeremi thanked Peter for packing the sweater, to which Peter scratched his head and dismissed it by saying "Melinda must've done that."

  "I knew that was you!" I said to George.

  "You did not!" he kidded back.

  After they were done, Jeremi walked Peter out and t
hey embraced again.

  "I'll be here in a heartbeat, if you need anything," Peter assured Jeremi.

  "Thanks."

  Peter left and Jeremi went back to his room.

  That night was pretty peaceful for Jeremi. He went back to his room and read some in his books and went to sleep. I went to see how Jeannie was holding up. She and the girls played a game at the kitchen table. The girls were really into it, but Jeannie was completely distracted. Carole had to tug on her mother's arm to get her attention. Jeannie answered the question at hand or took her turn, but then her look got distant again.

  "It's okay if you want to stop playing, Mommy," Carole said.

  "I'm fine, honey." Jeannie put her hand on Carole's cheek. "Mommy loves playing games with you girls."

  After a bit, there was a knock on the door: Peter.

  Jeannie opened the door and gave him a hug. Then the girls ran over to him and did the same.

  After the greetings, Peter asked quietly, "Can we talk?"

  Jeannie nodded and then told the girls to go to their room for a little while, which they did after they each got one more hug. They successfully stalled the inevitable sentence of going to their room until Jeannie snapped her fingers, then they both walked slowly down the hall to the bedroom. Carole stood in the doorway and tried to listen. Jeannie waited a couple of seconds, then yelled, "Close the door!" Carole turned reluctantly and closed the door behind her.

  "I've just come from seeing Jeremi," Peter said.

  "That's nice," Jeannie said, less than enthusiastic about it.

  "He looks great. He's doing great. He says he's learned a lot."

  "Good for him."

  "Well, we think he'll be home in a couple of days, maybe by the weekend and Melinda and I are going to throw him a celebration dinner. But the only way it'll be complete is if you and the girls come, too."

  "I see," Jeannie said curtly, then she let loose. "And I suppose I'm just supposed to sit there and smile and forget everything that happened? Forget that he cheated on me and lied to me and played me for a fool, while I'm carrying his child!"

  "Jeannie, please let him in so he can tell you how sorry he is."

  "I'm sorry, too. I'm sorry I ever met him. I'm sorry I ever got close to him." Tears streamed down her face. "I need to figure out what I'm going to do. To go to a dinner and sit there and pretend to be happy, are you kidding me? I've got responsibilities. I've got children to raise. I've got to get through this without having a breakdown because I'm the only one these kids can count on."