by Margo Walter
Recovery included therapy and counseling; I had been dually diagnosed with the bipolar disorder and a substance abuse problem. Lucky me! Gratitude would come later. Both were diseases with no cures but could be treated. The bipolar disorder proved to be severe and medication-resistant in my case. Lithium did not affect my mood swings whatsoever. It would take years to find a medication “cocktail” that would work.
During this time, the letters continued sporadically from the Admiral, and both of us were spending time trying to mend our bodies and souls.
October 25, 1983
“My dear Janet… I hasten to answer your letter which has really made me a very sorry person for all that has happened to you. I have contributed to so much hurt to so many individuals in my life I certainly am not proud of myself. As my life draws to a close, I am particularly sad about it. What will the account balance actually be only the good Lord will know. My only real message to you is yes I do love you, and you are an important person. My actions have certainly not shown much but as my close family will tell you, I am a pretty cold person outside but a mass of contradictions within myself. Yes you are in my heart and I want you to know it for it is never too late in life to actually say things and let the truth out. Your genes are half mine, so you are actually part of me and all the background of my ancestors…. Please don’t worry that I have rejected you in my heart. My seventh-sixth birthday is in November and I have to go to the hospital here to be operated on and know anything can happen to one at my age and so want to get this message to you now…. I was delighted about your going back to school. Please don’t give up. It has never been in my nature to do that and I am sure it isn’t in yours deep down…. The slogan “Press On” has solved and will always solve the problems of the human race…. People will tell you I was always an assured man. During the war I would be so frightened I would want to throw up. Everyone would think I had no feelings on the subject as I went on my way. How little they knew! Anyway be of stout heart and remember I do love you even though the circumstances have not been where I could do much about it. Love, Matt”
This letter stopped me in my tracks. It was written on my father’s stationery which identified him as an Admiral at the top of the page. It was an apology and an admission of hurt in the life of an extremely successful, accomplished man, my father. I was so proud and humbled by the message that he sent. I was also apprehensive about his health and quit focusing exclusively on mine. I had become so self-centered in the extreme that I forgot about my parent as a human being doing the best he can at the time. Our relationship shifted, and overnight it became healthier than it had been ever. The next letter sounded more fatherly and gave me the support and encouragement that I needed during this challenging time.
December 3, 1984
“Dear Janet… Just a line to let you know I am home and all went as well as anything goes in the hospital…. Hope this finds you in good spirits and that all is not lost…. There is one thing I can say about old age and that is fortunately you only have to do it once. So enjoy your youth and take care of yourself. If one does doesn’t have their health they have nothing…. It is the richest possession we ever have in our life. Love, Matt”
July 5, 1985
“Dear Admiral… It is strange that when I write to you, I never know if you will receive the letter, if you are alive or dead…. I always hope that you are alive and do read my letters. While the letters might be sent with long intervals between them, you never are out of my thoughts and my feelings. Every Father’s Day, sad days, every self-evaluation day, even happy days—I think of you.
I have found another father since I wrote to you last. I finally found out about a higher power, someone or something so much more powerful and loving than anyone or anything I have ever known. God seems like a good title…. I am not talking about religion, but I am talking about a spiritual experience that has made a big difference in my life. There have been too many coincidences to call coincidences anymore. When I give up, when I surrender—there really is someone else running this world and my life. I am a miracle. I should not be alive and yet continue to “press on”…. I do not even know you and I love you with all my heart. I cannot explain that, and it just makes me cry to write about it. That is not explainable either because emotion is something that I have learned to stuff and I very rarely cry. I think that I have been bleeding emotionally for a very long time and only the passage of time will take care of those old hurts and pains.
In your last letter you mentioned that if one doesn’t have their health, they have nothing. I do agree and have been working very hard during the past few months to regain mine. I am sorry, so sorry, for what I have done in the past few years to those I love by not taking care of me. I spent six weeks in March in a drug and alcohol rehabilitation hospital after completely losing control over drugs. Not only did I hit a new bottom but I hit insanity and now am fighting for my life. That fight also includes the final stages of a divorce that I never wanted and a child custody suit over three beautiful children that are my life. I am still trying to finish school and am only able to hold my head above water financially because of mother’s generosity. None of the material things mean anything. Every day, I just want to be loved for who I am and have the blessing of loving others. I still love my husband and this divorce is complicated. It sounds so clichéd, but I am having trouble imagining a life without him, and failing to provide a father for my children has devastated me. I know firsthand how important that one is. I guess this letter is also written out of fear that it will be the last opportunity that I have to write to you. As I said earlier, I feel that way on every letter, but this time I just feel uneasy. If there were any way that I could see you again in your lifetime, I would like that to happen. I will fly to wherever or meet you wherever you said if that was possible. I need to see you again in this new life which is more a part of reality. Am being forced to grow up, to accept responsibility for what is, and to accept what isn’t. If there is any way that I can see you in person, please call me and let me know…. Admiral, I would never cause you any trouble with your family and do not want anything from you other than your presence. If your health does not allow travel, I will fly up north, to Florida or wherever. If it is not possible to ever see you again, than this letter will have to carry a big message.
I am sorry that I did not encourage or actively seek a relationship with you after I found out the truth about you being my father. I was too self-centered, too selfish, and too caught up in the material things of this world. I had to lose all those things in order to understand what was really important. I am sorry that I never gave you the opportunity to be proud of me, like I am proud of you.
I am sorry that I only seemed to write or contact you when I was in need rather than looking at your needs and wants. That is the same way that I have called on God all my life. When things were hopeless, I got on my knees and asked for help.
Now, every night I thank God for another day of living and ask him for strength to “press on.” You see—I finally learned that I cannot do it alone and since I am human and not perfect, I make lots of mistakes. I have also accepted the fact that I was a mistake from the moment that I was born. But that’s OK because good things do come out of bad things sometimes.
I hope this letter does find you alive and healthy. More important, I hope it finds you happy, and you can just smile a little knowing that someone down here in Virginia loves you very much. People keep telling me that I am a survivor and I am trying to not only believe them but to show them. I am also trying to get to know who Janet really is and I suppose that is a big reason for writing to you. You are a big part of who I am which might explain the persistence and determination.
May God watch over you and your family and bring us together again if that be His will. Amen! With love always, Janet”
***
The divorce was final, and the custody battle was over. My children
were moving 1,500 miles away with their father. It was devastating and happened the same month that I picked up a one-year chip for staying sober, 365 exceptionally long days. This little cheap, plastic token meant the world to me. I did not drink or use and continued to get direction in my life that was healthy and incredible from where I had been.
There were two significant events during that first year of sobriety that would shape my life forever.
I was sober four months and got a call from the owner of a very prestigious real estate firm in the area. He knew my history, all of it, and wanted to talk to me about a job. The offer was managing broker of his top-producing office and a handsome salary to go with it. I had been unemployed for three years and knew there had to be a catch. Indeed, there was a condition. My first sales meeting I was told that I had to disclose to all the agents that I was a recovering alcoholic and addict. At the time it did seem like a huge request. Courage is a funny thing. If I were honest, open, and willing to accept his offer, I did believe that somehow, someway I could do what he required. This would be the first time to admit that I was in recovery to anyone outside of the meetings. That day did come and thank God, I had learned how to ask for help, to pray, and to have faith that things would work out. My AA sponsor was my most prominent cheerleader and gave me the strength to follow through. A second career was launched and would continue for the next seven years.
The second climatic event that occurred in that first year of sobriety was that I met my future husband. My divorce was final, my children lived with their father, and I was not looking for a relationship. I was looking for sex and found it in all the wrong places. There were many one-night stands, and the only thing that I did right was to date only men that were in recovery. Somewhere in the chaos of starting a new job, visiting my kids, chasing the “rabbit,” going to meetings, seeing my psychiatrist and counselor, and spending time with my sponsor, I stopped long enough to breathe and literally smell the ocean. The beach was still my place of solace and provided some sense of serenity. Maybe there, I could take a personal inventory and make some rational decisions.
I do not want you to be wondering about the rabbit. His name is Midnight, and he is a fifteen-pound pet that my oldest son left with me when he went to live with his father. Midnight has an incredibly annoying habit of escaping from his hut and taking off around the neighborhood. There are not many rabbits, out and about, so someone usually calls me to report a sighting. I finally found Midnight a home with a friendly veterinarian down the block.
Another decision that I made one night on the beach was to quit sleeping around and to have more respect for who I was becoming. Accept the fact that I might live alone for the rest of my life and be grateful that I was alive, period. Maybe the recovery stuff was working. In any case, I stopped dating and began a regular life, including eating, exercising, and sleeping. The rewards were phenomenal. At the time, I was way too thin, very weak, and really did not have the stamina that my new job required. I was anemic and still trying every medication possible to treat my bipolar disorder. The side effects were expected and unavoidable. One pill produced a feeling of unconsciousness during the middle of the day, and another one caused such paranoia that I was afraid of my own shadow. Weight gain was a likely side effect when I did not want any extra pounds. Lack of sleep was a big problem, and there did not seem to be any prescription that would help me not awake at 1:16, 2:32, or 4:11 am. I hated digital clocks that light up your bedroom with those huge green numbers. Taking care of Janet was a full-time job. About this time, I received an important, encouraging letter from my father. Who am I kidding? Every letter from the Admiral was significant.
July 1985
“My dear Janet… I received your letter and hurry to respond to it. You certainly have gone thru a lot, but I pray that you find the strength and resolve to continue to fight the problems with all your resolve. I am very concerned that you really lick the drug problem whether it is alcohol or the other…. Certainly, we can and will meet again, and I will call you at the number you gave me…. I love to swim and play golf, but for the time they are a no-no. There is only one good thing about getting old, and that is that one only has to do it once! However, I don’t feel old and my brain works like a Gatling gun and writes reams of things that I study about and am sure no one will ever really be interested in, but it does help me. My idea of the real tragedy would be not to be able to read or that I didn’t have all my “marbles.” However, many people tell me the crazy people don’t know it, so it really doesn’t bother them. I don’t want to try it! Please, I beg of you to hang in there and fight your problems. I will pray for you but am not sure the good Lord will listen to me. Love, Matt”
My father’s summation on “crazy people” certainly hit home and contributed to my denial of bipolar disease for the next decade. I was learning so much so fast that it was difficult to stay on track and stay sober. Sober people told me: “Just don’t drink or use drugs, and things would get better.” I just had no idea what to put on my wish list. My sponsor told me not to try as I would incredibly shortchange myself. As always, she was right.
You have undoubtedly heard the axiom that when you are not looking is when you find somebody you want to be with. Well, it happened. I was sitting in this crowded fellowship hall before a meeting, and this guy walks in with a blue kerchief holding his hair off his forehead. He was dressed in all-black leather, his motorcycle garb, and was sitting at the main table about fifteen feet away. He turned his head and looked straight at me. He had the most beautiful, captivating eyes that I had ever seen. Who is this man? Wait! I was not supposed to be looking. Fate, kismet, the stars being aligned, I do not know, but we made a connection. So much for being celibate. For the next three-and-a-half years, Chris and I spent getting to know each other, forging a friendship, and merging our lives. It was not a walk in the rose garden. There were spats, periods of silence, and finally compromises. We both came to the relationship with lots of baggage which had to be weighed, sorted, exposed, and accepted. It was a tedious journey at times, but our love, our dedication to each other, and our need to be together won over and we have now been married thirty-one years.
***
That was an immense jump in time and not fair to this story. Where was the Admiral in all this? Most of my letters to my father were long venting epistles that were an attempt to explain my past, understand the present, and predict my future. I did receive some pearls of wisdom in the responses from Matt.
October 1985
“Dear Admiral… Some days I am happy; I laugh; I cry; I feel good; I feel grateful to be alive. Using drugs and alcohol for the past twenty years, somewhere along the line, feelings left and numbness set in. In fact, I have been a robot for the past couple years. It feels wonderful to be human again…. I was such an overachiever, was so busy trying to get approval from everybody, and fighting so long to be the best so others would accept me—that I thought perfect was the only acceptable goal. I was fixed on perfectionism. Needless to say, I always fell short and as a result, hated myself for failing. At thirty-four, I finally found out that less than perfect is not only OK, but that it is human…. Just because someone does not love me, that does not mean that I am unlovable…. My biggest miracle is my three children. They love and accept me for who I am despite the hell they have been through…. Today, I have developed trust in other people, and that has given me friends. Friends are a totally new concept for me, and I now know what I have been missing in a friend…. I have goals that are really very simple—to have serenity, peace of mind, acceptance, or whatever you want to call it, and to be the best that I can in this life. Someone gave me a plaque which states: ‘Your life is a gift from God, and what you do with that life is your gift to God.’ I like that, and I believe it. Love, Janet”
October 4, 1985
“Dear Janet… Years ago I watched a television program with Lillian Roth. She wrote, ‘I will cry tomorrow
,’ which was her life. It really opened my eyes to the problems one faces with either dope or alcohol. She told me only she could solve the problem. Love of husband or family meant nothing and until the day arrived that she made up her mind to do it, nothing was going to change her life. She said she had to go thru the whole routine all the way to the gutter before she made her mind up to do something. She took charge…. As to my health, I have bounced back much to my delight. I even play golf again, even if I am terrible now…. I am working again in my technical consulting and using my IBM computer like crazy. We go to London this Wednesday where I will do business with some of my former friends from Africa and the Middle East and then on down to Rome where I will lecture on carbon fourteen dating and its use in historical research and what I did years ago on St. Tom’s tomb for Pius the 12th…. Please tell your Mother that she should not think it was a mistake and I hope she doesn’t think that has been the problem. I just hope you will find out that you are a person and nothing was a mistake and the only thing you have to do is to make sure you, yourself are in control of your own fate. It all depends on you, not your mother, nor me, or anybody else but yourself. I know you can do what you set out to do…. You are a person and a good one and should not have all the insecurity or complex that you seem to have…. Life is no song and dance and I can attest to that, but no one said it was supposed to be a bed of roses…. I am glad that my wife stood by me and that we are still together after all these years. It wasn’t easy for her I know for I was a wild young aviator and went to all the wars, and she raised the children most of the time. I studied and worked hard to get where I am, but it wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t stood by me. She had every reason to leave me but believed when one is married it is in sickness and trouble until death. We will celebrate our fifty-third wedding anniversary this month. She is really the strength in the family. I guess mothers are like that, and I am sure yours is the same.