Passing storms and silver linings

My firstborn graduated high school yesterday. In an actual ceremony, at their football stadium. The day held all the feels, though more subdued and distanced than usual. Instead of, we came, we saw, we conquered, it felt a bit more like, we persevered, we rode it out, we don’t want to look back. Nonetheless, it was a milestone, celebrated in person, marked with meaning and memory. A silver lining in a dark year.

Graduation weekend coinciding with Memorial Day weekend invites alcohol onto the scene in a big way and I’m maneuvering through thoughts and feelings, making my peace with its presence and counting my blessings. I hosted a small celebration for my son, my cooler stocked with a variety of nonalcoholic drinks. I wondered how many parents (and students) included alcohol in their day of celebration. Probably a large percentage. Still, I had a lovely gathering and my son skipped the “big party” last night and stayed with a friend. I went to bed with my heart full…

Today, my husband and I took our daughter and the dog to our nephew’s Little League baseball game. Then we drove out to a lake, hoping for a scenic picnic, some sun, water and relaxation. It was one of those outings where little things go wrong, and bit by bit, you realize you aren’t going to have the day you had hoped for. The trip took longer than expected, we couldn’t find a suitable place to park and hike down to the lake, my husband got stubborn, my daughter started whining, the dog paced around in the car, panting and scratching my legs with her nails. All of a sudden, the gas gauge was low and our fuses were short.

“Let’s just go home!” snapped my husband. We ended up eating our picnic on a turnout in the middle of nowhere. My daughter proclaimed the food gross, which led to an argument about her becoming spoiled and ungrateful. I felt that familiar feeling of wanting to escape. To rise out of the tension and float above the discord. The familiar tug of a glass of wine…a bottle of wine.

Then I played it out, as I do when that sensation visits me. What would drinking add to this messed up concoction of a day? Drinking Me would have no doubt broken into the wine by now and be knocking it back. It would fuel my anger and justify my snide remarks about how we could never just “have a nice time.” It would trigger the thought parade in my head about how my husband always does this, and fuel my resentment, and “I told you so’s”. The rest of the trip would simmer in anger and silence. Then I’d go home, continue to drink, stew in my own pool of toxic thoughts, and eventually pass out.

But that is not what happened, friends. Sober Me did not make belittling comments or add fuel to the fire. Instead, we filled our stomachs and returned to the car. We took a different route home and the surroundings sang with green life and sunlight. That fire that threatened to grow out of control was extinguished with humility, rational thoughts and a bit of humor. And then, it started to rain. It was as if we were driving through a movie featuring all of God’s grandeur.

We drove along the mountain roads and the previously hot day gave way to big, fast moving clouds that pelted us with fat drops of water. A song called, “Let it Rain” by Matt Kearney came on and my daughter was delighted by the happy coincidence. The air smelled of moist asphalt and wildflowers releasing their fragrance. The water produced steam as it met with the sun-baked pavement. And the sun provided a silver lining as we drove through the short-lived summer storm.

A passing storm with no teeth to bare, just beauty to expose. I don’t drink anymore, so I am free to celebrate this weekend, to not have stupid arguments, and to remember every last drop.