beyond the tigers

Grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change

the courage to change the things I can

and the wisdom to know the difference

I'm reminded of this today.

I stopped praying when Christine died. I stopped talking and listening to the God I learned to believe in, and I have not yet gone back. I know it's a large source of what unsettles me on a daily basis. I know it's not what she would have wanted. I'm approaching the one year anniversary of her death and in some ways all I want to do is pray.

The serenity prayer has always brought me back to center in the past. It has always helped get my mindset out of that cluttered space where my life is not manageable. I can apply the serenity prayer to so many situations in my life- in some ways it almost feels like a "get out of jail free" card, if I want to play it like that.

Often time we are weighed down by mistakes we've made. Balls we've dropped and people we've hurt. This morning Mike drove me to work and one of his old favorite songs came on the radio. I listened to him, as I've done a thousand times, sing along to the words. I found myself thinking, "he still knows the words to this song." I guess I just assume that he has forgotten, as he has forgotten so many other 'favorite things'. I noticed he wasn't singing aloud, but more whispering as I could only hear the "s" sounds of the lyrics. His life has become such that I suspect that he doesn't even bother learning the words to songs anymore. He finds joy in nothing. He is weighed down, every day, by his mistakes. He lets them define him. He lets them hold him back.

I am just as guilty. I'm approaching 11 years of marriage to a man that I failed to help, in all of my attempts to save him. I tried to help a drowning man by giving him a glass of water. From the first Al-Anon meeting I stepped into, 11 years ago- I refused to admit that I could not alter his course. I refused to give up the hope that I could help him, save him, rescue him. I could not change this situation. I did not have the courage to walk away. I know that now. Today I reach for my serenity by knowing that I can't change where we are now, even as I take responsibility for my part in it. I have to forgive myself for that mistake. I carry around 11 years of baggage. In it contains bottles that I threw away so we didn't have to talk about it. Money that I pretended not to be missing. Lies that I pretend I didn't tell. Cover up stories to all of my friends and family. I carry it all with me, and it's heavy.

I can't change it. I can't change the 11 years of mistakes I made. I can't alter his course. I can't save his life. Accept the things I cannot change. I can't change this. It's done. I need to wrap it in a blanket, put it in a boat and let it go. I'm not perfect. I tried, I swear I tried. I failed at a task I could never succeed at. My marriage was my Everest, and it's not a mountain I want to die on.

It takes courage to move on from my mistakes. People tell me how strong and brave I am, but I always remind them not to confuse bravery with the lack of courage to walk away from it. Am I facing the tigers, or just too afraid to turn and run out of fear they will get me in the back? The brave ones are the ones who get out alive. Not the ones who stand and wait to be eaten. I still struggle knowing the difference between what I cannot change, and having the courage to change what I can.

But Serenity, it calls to me like a sweet song. I know it's out there.