Maybe There's More To This?

That's a question I've asked myself many times throughout my short stay here on Earth. There are moments in life at least in my experience, that everything aligns so perfectly that it's hard to argue the fact that there must be a greater force at work, one much greater than my own will or desires. I can think of no better example of this happening in my life, than what just occurred a few weeks ago. In order to properly explain it, allow me to provide some backstory. So please if you will, indulge me.

Raised Catholic, I grew up inheriting an underlying skepticism about the concept of a "loving and caring God." This uneasiness was only compounded by my interest in world history, which seemed to only validate my distrust of God, the church, and it's members. After coming clean to both my family and myself about my drug and alcohol problem, I entered into my first rehab facility. My first day there, a "hospitals and institutions" commitment came into the rehab, and asked us all to recite a new prayer I hadn't ever heard in church, the "serenity prayer,"

"God, 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."

Red flags immediately started to wave within my subconscious. I started to dart my eyes across the room, finding banners hung up in every corner with "twelve steps" on them. I couldn't count the amount of times God was referenced on them, and in that room that night, despite me trying my best to keep a running tally. I was convinced that both AA and NA were brain children of the church to get people back into God. I felt duped, and scammed. Somehow I made it through that night, that rehab, and eventually found myself welcomed back into my parents' house in New Jersey. There were of course conditions, first and foremost I had to make ninety meetings in ninety days. I weighed my options, and after 30 days of rehab food I decided that an hour a day wasted at a meeting was a worthwhile sacrifice. I looked up where a local meeting was and to my surprise, it was at a local Jewish synagogue. "So they're all in on this," I thought to myself. I stepped into that synagogue, and my whole life eventually changed.

It's been almost 8 years since that meeting, I'm laying here in bed as I write this, coming on up five years clean and sober in a few months. During the last few years, I've finished working the dreaded aforementioned twelve steps, and came to have a loving and trusting relationship with God on a personal level. Admittedly, I've stopped attending church some time ago for personal reasons, but that hasn't stopped me from dropping to my knees multiple times a day and praying, not to mention the fact that I read and know the Bible better than most pastors or priests. In a short four years and change, I managed to get my life back on track, arguably more so than it had even been, even before I started abusing drugs and alcohol. I worked an honest program, and my life did a complete turn around in admittedly, a very short amount of time. One area that never seemed to improve though, was my relationship with my parents which was already far from perfect growing up, and my addictions certainly didn't help that cause. In time, I came to an eventual peace with it all, assuming it would never get better.

Career wise, I secured a position with a drug and alcohol facility, and slowly moved my way up in the company to become the director of it's admissions department. My company owns currently, six rehabilitation facilities across the country, so I assist struggling addicts and their families from all over the nation find help, which is an absolute dream come true. My company asked me to transfer down from New Jersey to Florida, to head up a new office we were opening, and I jumped at the chance to never have to shovel snow ever again. In my year or so down here in Florida, I've met some amazing people that I'm truly honored to call friends and colleagues. One woman in particular who I will not name that I became close with, for a time worked at the facility my company owns down here. Eventually, she left our company for another, and we seemingly parted ways for good. I'll get back to her.

My relationship with my parents didn't get any better now that there was eleven hundred miles between us, but it didn't get worse, which was a small victory in a way. I had moved out of my parents' house right around when I was coming up on two years clean and sober, and our interactions were always relegated to me visiting them, never the other way around for whatever reason. My parents one night, informed me that they were planning on coming down to visit me in August, and I was immediately filled with both excitement, and terror. I felt that this visit was going to be very crucial in my attempt at mending the bridge I had so perversely burned down. This was my first, and potentially last, opportunity to show my parents real tangible proof that not only had I turned my life around, but that I had somehow managed to navigate life well enough to resemble a half way decent adult. I am delighted to say that their brief weekend visit went better than I had ever imagined. I felt relieved, but I also felt that the only reason why it went so well, was because we were all on our best behavior, especially my mother. They departed for the west coast of Florida for a week, a leg of their journey I couldn't join them on since I had a busy work week ahead of me. We parted ways, and life went back to normal, for me at least.

My parents were planning on spending a full weeks in Naples, however with tropical storm Hermine bearing down on them, they thought it was best if they left early, as opposed to leaving too late. They sent me their flight itinerary, which admittedly I glanced at briefly, but didn't pay too much attention to. I knew they were leaving two days early on Friday instead of Sunday, and assumed they'd text me when they arrived, like they do whenever they go anywhere. I soldiered on through my week, and Friday reared it's beautiful face upon my life. My old colleague contacted me out of nowhere in regards to a young woman that was in need of help from her addiction, and it was decided between her and myself, that it would be best to get this young woman out of Florida. My new position doesn't entail that I answer calls anymore, I'm more behind the scenes, making sure my team is working as efficiently as possible, so I jumped at the chance to roll up my sleeves and assist this girl, just like I did when I first started in admissions. I couldn't tell why though, but I felt uncharacteristically invested and involved in this girl's story. I couldn't stop asking myself, "maybe there's more to this?" I'm happy to say that it felt amazing getting back into the "thick of things," and arrange from start to finish this girl's admission into our New Jersey location. I explained every aspect of the program to her, arranged her flight, and hoped nothing but the best for her. That being said, I could not shake this lingering feeling like I had really made a difference in her life, which is a feeling that sadly comes and goes I'm told, the longer you're in this field. I chalked it up to the fact that I haven't had much of an opportunity to speak to clients anymore, and finished out my workday.

Late that night, I got a call from my mother that woke me, she seemed frantic. I was concerned at first, thinking something happened to either her, or my father on the plane. Thankfully, that was not the case. Relief soon turned to frustration as she started to go into detail with me about the experience she had on the plane, "this could take a while," I thought to myself. I sat up in bed, doing my best to stay awake and attentive, as she started telling me about this girl she had met on the plane. She told me that a young girl was seated in between my father and herself, and that the girl asked if she could stay in the middle seat, as she was extremely anxious about flying. My father went right to sleep, but my mother took full advantage of the chance to have a heart to heart with a total stranger, which has always been something of a hobby of hers. My mother explained that after a few minutes of awkward silence, she started telling this total stranger why she had been in Florida, and that she had flown down here with my father to visit me, a young man who was in recovery, and had managed to turn his life around, all without ever mentioning my name, or what I did for a living. My mother explained to me that she could sense there was something off about this girl, that there was a familiar uneasy presence about her, the same that used to envelop me. After my mother unceremoniously "broke the ice," she turned to the young girl and asked her, "so why are you going to to New Jersey?" The girl took a little while to answer, but eventually came clean and admitted that she was on her way to rehab. My mother reassured her that everything was going to be alright, and eventually asked her which one she was going into. Low and behold, the girl mentioned the New Jersey program that my company owns and operates, and I wish I could have been there on that plane to see the look on my mother's face. Ecstatic with goosebumps everywhere I'm sure, my mother excitedly proclaimed that I work for that facility. It was only at this point, that my mother mentioned my full name to her. This girl knew what was transpiring, my mother has no idea at that point.

My mother asked me, "what are the chances that we'd wind up sitting next to a girl that's on her way to your program?" I asked my mom to sit down, as I was about to blow her mind, and my own. I told her, "there is more to this." I said the girl's name, and asked my mother if that was in fact the girl she had met. She quickly fired back, demanding how I knew her name. I cleared my throat, grinned up at the ceiling, and explained that I had personally handled this girl's case, and that I was even the one that arranged her flight. My mother thought that I had done this all on purpose, at which point I came clean about the fact that I hadn't given their itinerary a second glance, so I had no idea what flight they were supposed to be on, let alone where on said plane they'd be seated. The call went silent for a moment, as we both attempted to gather our composure, realizing what had just happened. I contacted my friend that had gotten me in touch with the young woman immediately, and started to explain what had happened. She was already aware of what had went down, as the girl called her once she got off the plane. Apparently, at the point my mother said my full name and where I worked, this girl successfully deduced that she was sitting between the parents of the guy that had set her up to go to treatment. I have to give it to her, she must have some poker face, because she gave my mother no indication that she was aware of what was going on. My mother reported having had no idea what the universe had aligned right before her eyes, and an armrest away.

My friend expressed that this young woman's fear and anxiety had been completely dispelled after her encounter with my parents, especially with all that their "by chance" meeting entailed. I was happy to hear this, hoping and praying that my mother had been placed if even for a brief moment, into this girl's life to reassure her that she was making the right decision in trying to better her life by entering into treatment. My life in a way, had an impact on this girl's life. What I didn't count on however, was the impact this encounter would have on my own. When I came clean to my parents about my addictions, they didn't know how to handle it. There is no perfect guidebook to parenting. And there certainly isn't a chapter in that non existent book that clarifies how to handle the news that your son is a lying, stealing, manipulating, alcoholic and drug addict. I don't blame them for it, but there was always palpable anger, resentment, distrust, and uncertainty from my parents towards me since that day, regardless of the fact that they've always loved me, and wanted nothing more than for me to get better. It's taken years to get to the point that healing could begin, but I believe we've finally reached that point, thanks in no small part to a stranger on a plane. Getting to sit next to this young girl, my mother got to see first hand the depths of despair and fear in someone else's eyes other than mine for once. Her present situation completely contrasted mine, despite the fact that my life had paralleled hers so closely only a few years ago. After having visited me for the first time, and having seen the life I had began building on the back of working an honest and rigorous program, capped off with a stark reminder of the low my life had only a few years prior, I can only imagine what that must have been like for my mother.

In the most hauntingly random way, God managed to align mine and this girl's lives in a manner that that not only served to prove His existence, but also to provide healing, and hope into both of our otherwise completely unconnected different situations. I can wholeheartedly say that this experience has profoundly changed the relationship I now have with my mother for the better. The last update I had on the young woman, was that she is doing fine in treatment, and is looking forward to her new life clean, sober, and full of promise. I doubt our lives will ever coincide ever again, but that doesn't matter. My life is changed for the better as a result of all of this. I am forever grateful to her for making the right decision for her life, as that decision has allowed me to bear witness to an amazing and continual plan that I am still trying to adhere to, and wrap my head around. I guess that's how "God's will" works; greater and better than anyone can ever quantify, or anticipate. For those of you reading this that are struggling, or will struggle, know that ultimately if you continue to do the right thing, life...or God...or the universe...whatever you want to call it...will provide you real and tangible proof that everything you've done, everywhere you've been, and everything that makes you who you are are, all happening for a very precise and deliberate reason. It is my prayer daily, that God allows me to see a glimpse of what His plan is for me, and that He allows me to align my life better with His will for me. He answers prayers on His time, and when he does, the results are borderline unfathomable. So if you ever find yourself, thinking, "maybe there's more to this," more than likely there is, you just have to wait and see.