I've had this on my heart, and I just need to get it out.
Wednesday night, my dad, sister and I went to the Eagles Concert. We grew up listening to the Eagles so my dad treated us to dinner and the concert.
We won't mention the part about my boots being too small and having to make a pit stop at the Mall before hand to find some flats because I thought I was going to have a panic attack if I didn't get them off. Pregnancy making your feet grow is the pits. I've been a solid 6.5 my whole life, but a 7 is now a must. I'll be selling my boots soon.
Anyways. The Concert.
We made up up to our seats. Very top row of the 3rd level. High up.
We took our seats and got comfy. Up the steps comes Drunk and Drunker. And what appeared to be the mother and wife. My anxiety rose as the only 4 seats in our section were right next to me. Large and pregnant and hot. But thank God I didn't have those boots on.
They filed in, one by one to our row. A few times Gregory (
we knew his name right from the start, as the other 3 were trying to make sure he could stand up) about fell over the row in front of us as he made his way past us. Tim, who we initially thought to be Chip, was telling Brenda (Gregory's wife) that they should have brought a harness for Gregory. Momma closed out the gang. Momma and Tim both had a beer in their hand, as if they hadn't had enough already.
Lord. This was going to be an entertaining night.
As the show began, Gregory got louder and louder. His apparent drunken state was too much for the gentlemen in front of him to handle. A few times he turned around, offering a threat to call security, a foul word or just a cross look. This wasn't sitting well with Gregory.
Words were exchanged several times between Gregory, party of 4. Brenda telling Gregory he had a 'bad case of the dumb ass', momma pulling Gregory down when he was getting a little too rowdy, Tim/Chip trying to be a voice of reason while drunk himself. It was a sight. The blind leading the blind.
Intermission came and Momma and Brenda went. That left me beside Gregory, a seat between us.
This is where it gets good.
We struck up a conversation pretty quick. Eye contact with a drunk is about all you need to get that going. He asked my name. He informed me he had a dog named Annie, a pit bull. He'd never fight a dog, roosters maybe, but never a dog. A few minutes later he asked my name again. I reminded him of our recent conversation and we went on.
He started mouthing about the man in front of us, letting me know he could kick his {
ahem} and that he could throw him over the rail if he wanted among other things. I calmly said 'now, he bought his tickets just like you did and he just wants to enjoy the show too...and you are all up in his business with your singing in his ear. Just leave him be and you have a good time, but be respectful'.
Well, you have a good point there Annie, he said.
He didn't like how this man had treated him and I can't say that I blame him. Drunk or not. You treat people how you want to be treated. And Gregory needed love and kindness.
I could tell he was harmless so I started joking with him.
How many beers have you had tonight Gregory?
Only a few? Likely story.
Oh really, well HOW BIG were the ones that you had?
Thinking for a minute,
'now why do I have to answer all these questions? he asked.
I politely told him he didn't have to, but I was just curious.
I then went on to ask him when he started drinking and he matter of factly said '
about 5:30 this morning'. Tim agreed that this was the case.
I asked him if he did this every day and he, in that same, matter of fact tone, answered my question with a confident
'yep'.
I don't meet a stranger. Have we covered that yet?
I asked him if he thought maybe this could be a problem. Again, same quick answer,
'yes probably.'
I motioned towards my dad, who was sitting on the other side of my sister.
I said
'that man right there used to have that same problem.'
'He's an alcoholic?' He said.
'Yes. He's been sober 20 years.' 23 years, my dad quickly corrected.
And so the tone changed. They shook hands. Gregory demeanor immediately changed. He complimented my dad on 23 years. He complimented my dad on his daughters. He asked if I remembered my dad 'like that'. I do. He was impressed that there we sat, all together, the 3 of us, what used to be a rocky past, having a wonderful time. Sober. I informed him I'd never had a drink. Never had the desire. Nor will I ever take that first sip. His eyes never left mine. He listened intently We talked of meetings and sponsors and being better. Being different.
Gregory knew about AA. He knew about meetings. He knew he'd need a sponsor if he were ever going to be any different. Do different.
'I like being sober', he said.
'But I like being drunk too.' My dad knew those words all too well. He's said them and heard them many times along his 23 year long road to sobriety.
Brenda and momma came back. Tim went and got more beer. Gregory continued to banter with the man in front of us. The concert continued.
As we made our way back to the car, Gregory filled my mind. My sisters too. We talked about him most of the way home. My dad, having the experience that he's had, filled us in that it probably wasn't alcohol making Gregory the way he was, it was more than likely the hard stuff. Cocaine. My heart sank.
How does one get to that point? He never slowed down. From the time the concert started, till 3 hours later when we left, he never let up. And never drank a beer either. He was amped up the whole time.
I keep thinking about Gregory. Why were we put there beside him? Did him seeing us, sober, make any difference? Did we plant any seeds in his mind? In his heart? Will they sprout? Will that be the last night of the hard stuff for him? Will he find a sponsor, have 23 years under his belt one day? He's got a lot more life to live. He was 48. A rough, rugged 48. I wish we had his phone number. Or some way to follow up on him. Not me, but my dad.
It got me thinking. We each have our own ministry. Ways in which God can use us. I always struggle with wondering where my ministry is. Obviously my #1 ministry are to those in my home. My husband and my child. They are my #1 ministry. But outside of that, I think Gregory is my ministry. I don't know if it's growing up with an alcoholic father, or if that's just where my heart is, but the recovery ministry is something I feel very strongly about.
For some it may be children. For some it may be the homeless. But for me, talking with Gregory was what my heart needed. I didn't feel out of place with him. I didn't feel like I was judging him by asking questions. I just felt like we were planting seeds. I pray they sprout. I pray they take up root and that his life will be forever changed. Not BY us, but through us.
As my dad said, 'when a person gets in that spot, humans are powerless to give aid. Deep down inside they know it can be better, they just don't know how to get there. No one ever dreams to be an alcoholic or drug addict. It just happens.' One drink at a time. And then,
just one more. Not for all, but for some.
I challenge you to look for your Gregory? Where can you make a difference today? Even if you can't even follow up on that seed, plant it. Pray for it. One day, we'll have an answer. But until then, keep planting. Find your Gregory.
