Many thanks to Micah (N4MJL) who shares the following guest post: Fort Point (3-Fer POTA activation) San Francisco 1 June 2024 by Micah (N4MJL) What do you do with 24 hours off in San Francisco? Well, as a card carrying FCC certified nerd, I hit the streets and headed off to Fort Point with my brand new … Continue reading 24 Hours in San Francisco: One SOTA and Three POTAs in One Activation! →

I’m grateful for a chance to visit my son. I’m grateful for a ride on his ship. I’m grateful for finding the path back and grateful for always moving forward. I’m grateful for the light that fills my life. I’m grateful for mini-Oreos. I’m grateful to be sober today.

Mystery ?? Button

song of the week:

I’m visiting my son, he’s an officer on the USS Gettysburg, a guided missile cruiser, that will be deploying in a few weeks as part of a carrier strike force, bound for the troubled waters of the Middle East. IRL, I’m a big news junkie, and it does give seemingly remote events a very personal bite when your child is among those going to do a very difficult and dangerous job in a very faraway place.

I have received an invitation for a “Tiger Cruise,” wherein family are invited for a ride on the ship prior to deployment. Of course I responded instantly (also I love my son very much and always jump at chances to see him) and here I am in Norfolk, excited to spend the day tomorrow on my son’s ship. The song? I have always liked this song and it’s set aboard a navy vessel (a battleship not a cruiser). Enough said.

Of course, I’m proud of my Lieutenant son, unbelievably, overwhelmingly proud of him. He left college with a classics degree and was unsure where his extensive knowledge of Latin and ancient Greek would take him. He landed a job with a data analytics company and within a year he was working on special projects with the CEO.

It was December of 2019 when he decided he wanted to take the exam and try to get into Officer Candidate School (“OCS”). I found this out from his sister, because he wasn’t really speaking to me much back then. I was again at a few months of sobriety—but I wasn’t even telling my children that anymore, there had been so many fraudulent day counts, so many lies and misrepresentations about my sobriety—well, it was hard to blame them for not believing much that I said.

Having to find out about him joining the navy from his sister was hard. I was crushed, as hurt as I’ve ever been. I wasn’t mad at my son, I was just so disappointed in myself, so angry at myself. So frustrated at how I had managed to push such wonderful, amazing children so far away. There’s not much that’s more painful than estrangement from your kids. It’s a bleak kind of emptiness, when even the people who loved you reflexively and so sweetly from the very beginning, finally turn away.

There was nothing I could do but keep getting sober, bide my time and hope that time really does heal all wounds. When he called, I answered. When there was any chance to see him, I changed plans and showed up. I never complained, I never asked for more. I just kept showing up sober. I knew there was nothing I could do or say that would influence his opinion of me, he had to come by those feelings on his own. He had to decide for himself about my sobriety, all I could do was provide supporting evidence.

We alcoholics run on different timelines. Days, even months can be lost to a barstool and a flinty sauvignon blanc, but we expect other people to come around lickety-split. It was hard to wait, it was hard to know that it was completely out of my control—except for the part about being honest and showing up whenever I had the opportunity.

He was commissioned as an officer in January of 2022, and since he had graduated near the top of his class, he had choices in the ship assignment process. He was excited to get serve aboard the USS Gettysburg—an incredibly powerful combat ship that is tasked with providing air and missile defense for a carrier strike force. His strike force deploys later in September.

As we get closer to the time, I get a little more scared, although I would never say that to him. Even if one discounts the danger posed by Houthi rebels firing missiles and launching drones at ships in the Red Sea, it’s not easy serving aboard a combat ship. There are long, long days capped with longer nights on watch—scanning the horizon from the bridge, even in the deepest parts of the night. There are months away from family and loved ones; He’ll spend Thanksgiving, Christmas and maybe his birthday aboard the ship.

I’ve written before about the miracle of the restoration of my relationship with him. And as I was re-reading previous efforts, I realized I couldn’t tell the story any better than I did a few Christmases ago. While I would normally just put the link here, I thought I would just put the whole thing here in front of you:

I hope that if Christmas is your thing, it was lovely. It was very, very lovely here. My son is on leave from the Navy and arrived yesterday. We had made the determination that, even though it was Christmas, since we won’t see each other on New Year’s Day, we would have pork and sauerkraut for dinner. In case you didn’t know this, pork and sauerkraut on New Year’s Day, is essential to securing the lucky bounces for 2023. He regaled me with stories of his time at sea (so far, a ten-day live fire and helicopter operations training cruise). It was hard to hear many of the details he was so vividly discussing, because I was trying to wrap my head around the idea that other adults on a combat ship call him “Sir.”

You see, in my mind’s eye, he’s still wearing pajamas with feet in them and getting all excited after watching “Space Jam” for the 132nd time. We repair to the Fisher-Price basketball set-up in the basement and I get posterized again and again. There is ferocious dunking going on, amid garbled three-year old trash talk, “Take it to the Hooch,” he shout-giggles as he crashes towards the rim, oblivious to the fact that I’ve established position and he was clearly going to take a charging call here and have the “hooch” waved off. He didn’t care. It’s a vicious, two-handed Daryl Dawkins “glass is flying, Robinzine crying, ain’t no playing, get out of the waying” dunk. The impact knocks me off my knees and he falls on top of me with his rumbly, Winnie-the-Pooh belly laugh. He scrambles up, so that he can stand over me, laugh derisively and proclaim:

I don’t know where he learned all of that. My official position is also that I’m unaware of how exactly he learned all of the words to “Dude Looks Like a Lady” when he was five.

My drinking and the ensuing divorce, was pretty hard on a certain 15 year-old. It definitely left marks and it breaks my heart to see them. The cute, cuddly, always-laughing boy had to go through a lot. There are lots of moments I wish I didn’t have to remember, but he does, so I do, too. I think healing isn’t about forgetting; I think it happens when two people hold on to some common pain, and each other, until things get better. And things get better, they really do.

One of the worst memories I have is a dinner with M. in 2019. I was proudly proclaiming how sober I was, how great things were, how my newest relationship was the thing that was going to save me. Look, it’s already working! We were at our favorite Chinese restaurant in DC and I was drunk. He knew it the whole time. Things got pretty frosty after that, and there was more bad stuff to come. When he decided to join the Navy later that year, he made a point of not telling me. At some point, he had the “talk” with me: He would always love me and be grateful for everything I had done for him, but he was a grown-up now and got to choose who was in his life and I was not really going to make the cut.

That was crushing. And it was worse when I let myself think how bad it must have felt to him, to have had enough happen to say that so cooly and calmly. Yeah, it all left a terrible mark and it’s still hard for me to look at him and know what I put him and his sister through.

But last night, we sat in front of my pretty tree with the colored lights and opened presents (well, he did, he forgot mine at his Mom’s house). He put on the high performance stocking cap I got him, for those late nights and super early mornings on the Bridge, while he’s there scanning the horizon. We ate pork and sauerkraut, took a late night, very chilly walk around the upper east side and then he played Skyrim while I dozed on the sofa. I woke up to a soft tap on the shoulder, “Good night, Dad, love you, Merry Christmas.”

I get pretty riled up when I hear people talk about “the Promises of AA” and mention “cash and prizes” in the same breath. I just want to shake my head, “Can’t you see the real miracle that’s out there,” I want to ask?

It’s a miracle that I got sober for sure. The much greater miracle is the way my heart and the hearts of the people who loved me, have grown together again. It took a lot of courage for us to do that, not the bravery in battle kind of courage, but the kind of courage that comes from letting your heart do the work, the courage that comes from putting your heart at the center of your life. That’s what sobriety has done for me and the people who love me. M was pretty upset that he forgot my gift. He’ll see, soon enough, just how great a gift he did deliver this Christmas.1

When you’re (hopefully) reading this tomorrow, I’ll be aboard the Gettysburg and undoubtedly in awe of the 500 young women and men who crew the ship and will be doing what generations of sailors before them have done: Go in harm’s way, so the rest of us don’t have to. The pay is terrible, the job is hard and the hours are long and I’m not sure I could have any more respect or admiration for the dashing young officer on that ship who happens to be my son.

The real power of the Big Book and of AA, is the power of example. Bill got sober when he saw his friend and potentially even bigger alcoholic, Eby Thacher, had gotten sober. If it works for him, it might work for me. When we see the miracles that take place in other’s lives as they gain sobriety, we start to get the idea that maybe we’re not beyond help ourselves.

My son is excited to see me tomorrow, too. We talk a lot these days and unfortunately for his very lovely girlfriend, we have the same sense of humor. We have something back that maybe we both thought was lost for good. He has a father he can trust; a father he can rely on again. And I have a son. A very brave, very kind, very strong, very sensitive, very handsome, very loyal, very funny, very excellent son.2

Seriously, how could I ask for anything more?

Happy Friday.

by Teri (KO4WFP) After a one-month hiatus, it was time for the POTA Babe to get back in the saddle. Tuesday, August 13, Daisy and I dropped off my son and headed out for an adventure. Tillman Sand Ridge Heritage Preserve (US-3913), across the Savannah River in South Carolina, is a 45 minute drive from … Continue reading The POTA Babe Gets Skunked →

I’m grateful for feeling the seasons change ever so slightly with the cool air being a welcome relief during my morning runs. I’m grateful for the incremental updates we keep adding to our home to make it both more comfortable and more pragmatic. I’m grateful for the newcomer who has been showing up and letting it all out – inspiring me to demonstrate the same courage. I’m grateful for how delicious our peach and nectarine hauls have been for the past several weeks. I’m grateful for the regularity with which I look out at the horizon and my mouth drops at how beautiful the nature around here is – I hope that feeling of wonder doesn’t subside anytime soon. I’m grateful for having options in life. I’m grateful for a meeting focused on Step 1 and our experiences with powerlessness in those final days. I’m grateful for randomly sitting next to someone who recently relapsed after moving to Denver and being able to guide him a little on how to navigate the AA scene.

On Sunday evening I wasn’t in the best mood. I’d been cleaning and doing a variety of home projects throughout the day that were pretty taxing. I’d not eaten at the most optimal times. I’d been stuck indoors save for my morning run. There were tiny actions taken by my partner that were also kinda grating on me. I’d gotten caught in a rainstorm while walking the dog. Luckily we were fairly close to home, but he had not been able to “go” fully. I had to bring him back inside and wash the dirt from his feet, as I do every time we go out, but knowing full well I needed to do this again in 10 minutes after the rain stopped. My mind was primed to react poorly to external events…and it did.

Now the manifestation of my anger wasn’t yelling or visibly lashing out. It was quietly stewing on the couch and trying to analyze “why?”. Why am I in a bad mood when generally speaking there isn’t a super solid reason for me to be. At best I can be moderately annoyed, but what purpose is this negative state of mind serving me except to infringe on my serenity?

In the old days I’d escape this emotion rather swiftly (or more likely make it worse) with a bottle of vodka. Thankfully that idea never crossed my mind, but deploying AA certainly did. I began asking myself how can I tap into the knowledge I’ve gained from being in this Program to get out of my funk.

First thing is I needed to give myself a little grace around feeling my feelings, even the subpar ones: anger, pettiness, snarkiness, etc. Ignoring them or scolding myself for not perfectly avoiding negativity wasn’t going to turn things around. However I knew I could only have this grace period for a short while. Stewing in it is never the ultimate solution so I had to concurrently devise an off-ramp strategy.

Later that evening after our second walk where my dog did finish his business, I began deploying a variety of techniques I’ve learnt in the rooms to get recentered. I asked myself the question, “What would the best AA version of me do here?”. Immediately a phrase I often recall at these junctures surfaced: “Everything is temporary“. I kept saying it over and over. I often find relief in repetition and repetition does drive home the message for me. I began welcoming the notion that another thought, another emotion would eventually arise and over time enough of these would allow me to move past my present state. I also reminded myself of the mountains I’d just seen highlighted by the setting sun and wondered how they’ve survived for thousands of years. Is whatever I’m feeling really that necessary to hold onto given my relatively short time on Earth?

After letting my mind sit in these musings, I remembered how helpful writing out gratitude lists are. So I listed a bunch of good things that happened throughout the day to counterbalance my negativity: successfully mounting artwork that had been stored in the basement, enjoying delicious homemade Indian food with plenty of leftovers for the week, having a functioning car that works in the city and at higher elevations, showing my NYC friends around Denver, etc. I got another few minutes of reprieve as I actively challenged my mind to find the light and to adopt a bird’s eye view of my life, which made it harder to be absorbed by darkness.

As my grouchy thoughts continued subsiding, I remembered a mindfulness tool a fellow had shared at a meeting a few weeks back. After having an argument with her husband the fellow decided to write about how she could’ve tackled the scenario better. She created two columns on a sheet of paper. In one column she listed her defects that had emerged during the disagreement and in the other she listed the opposite thought / action she wished she had taken. Seeing everything side by side helped get her right-sized.

As I filled out the internal defects that I’d been exhibiting in my first column I immediately realized how petulant, how childish I was being. When I moved onto filling out the second column, a sense of calm overcame me. I saw before me a roadmap for getting out of my bad mood. Here’s an abbreviated version of what the list looked like (details are omitted for personal reasons):

It’s a miracle how being sober can ensure that formerly intense desires for embracing delusion are absent when I direct my mind to productive, honest work like this. While the remnants of my sourness lingered somewhat, I began switching over to a stronger headspace where I visualized the nasty little tendrils of my defects slowly dissolving. That list creation allowed me to confront what was happening head on. I wasn’t avoiding my demons, I was understanding them and then strategically erasing them by putting everything in context. From chanting about life’s transience, to finding gratitude, to remembering how I can show up as the best version of myself, I found a way to be lead by my better angels. It’s truly amazing what my sober mind can do these days to be my own best advocate and not my own worst enemy.

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Many thanks to Conrad (N2YCH) who shares the following field report: Activating Independence National Historical Park, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania August 21, 2024 By: Conrad Trautmann, N2YCH I recently took an overnight trip from Connecticut to Philadelphia via Amtrak and before I left, I checked to see what parks in Philly I might be able to activate. Conveniently, Independence … Continue reading Philly: Conrad Activates Independence National Historical Park →

Many thanks to Len (W8VQ) who writes: I have been working CW a bit in my upstairs QRP station. Last night, 40 meters was alive. Lots of POTA and general QSOs and a few SKCC. I used my new straight key. I thought you’d enjoy a critique. I used the new key for two SKCC … Continue reading Len Tests a Signet Spring Straight Key →

Many thanks to Paul (KE4SC) who writes: Hi Thomas. I thought I would pass along this idea for your readers. I was using my KX2 on PSK31(and cw!) this weekend at the lake QTH. I felt the rig getting warm. I remembered that my wife bought several of these battery powered personal fans (Cold Sky) … Continue reading Elecraft KX2: Paul’s a fan of this “cool idea” →

I am so grateful to be sober today. I’m grateful for seeing T yesterday, for my family, my friends and my partner. I’m grateful for our home, for AA, for asking for and getting help. I’m grateful for coffee, my service commitments, for keeping the doors open and letting the fresh air in.

Gooood morning my friends (: As per always, I hope everyone had a lovely weekend and you are feeling at least refreshed for the week ahead (let’s petition for a four-day work week?).

This morning, I sat down on my couch with my coffee all comfy only to open my laptop and realize it’s about to die. So, let’s see if I can make it through this entire post without having to get up.

On Saturday, I had yet another breakdown. I gotta tell you guys I’m really tired of having breakdowns – I feel like an actual insane person. So, I called my dad, and he helped me realize a lot of things. I am feeling this incessant feeling that something needs to change from deep inside and I have just looked at it like ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me.’ And I definitely don’t know what’s wrong with me, but my dad helped me see that this incessant feeling, the weekly breakdowns, it’s something that’s bigger than me.

When I first got sober, I absolutely had a white light experience – I woke up and I knew it was over for me (my drinking) and I knew that it wasn’t me making that decision. I fought it slightly for exactly one week (thought I could make do on the alcohol only episodes of intervention rather than AA) when again, it wasn’t me that made the decision to go to AA.

And still to this day or maybe up until I actually started writing this – I very firmly believed I’d never have such a white light experience again. That it was a one and done – gotta save her life and then we’ll be subtle for there – kind of thing.

But after this last breakdown and talking to my dad it was almost like some of the fog lifted. Maybe it wasn’t a full white light, just some rays but it’s more than I ever thought I’d get again and for the first time in a really long time I have hope again. That things can change, I’m not just stuck here forever, that last week’s micro actions can apply to a lot more than just journaling and wellness.

I am inspired again by the options I do have. And for the FIRST TIME EVER I am accepting that I just don’t know the answer. I don’t know where exactly I’m headed or what I want. I’m standing at a jumping off point and a long time ago I used to write here a lot about leaping and trusting the net will catch you.

I gotta tell you I’m fucking terrified to leap. Who wants to leap? That’s so stupid and not logical and what if all these numbers of catastrophic things happen and the net isn’t actually there, and this is all fake and I’m just going to fail. Well ladies and gentlemen I am starting to understand that the real courage is in leaping anyway. Getting sober at the time was to me genuinely out of my hands, I had nothing to lose, and it saved my life.

This is so much scarier, because I am sober. I have things to lose. But I want to be someone who has courage and who fights for happiness. Who listens to my body, those deep-down feelings that I simply cannot ignore anymore. Who has all of these fears – and leaps anyway.  

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Xx

Jane

P.S. I am pleased to report I still have 14% battery and have not had to get up from the couch!

On Wednesday, August 7, 2024, I planned to drive to Hickory, NC to spend part of the morning helping my father with a few tasks. I planned to stay for only three hours, leaving the afternoon open for a SOTA (Summits On The Air) activation of Bakers Mountain. Bakers Mountain is one of the most … Continue reading Finding Joy in the Journey: A Missed SOTA Hike Leads to a Relaxing POTA Activation →

I’m grateful for a lazy day and grateful to myself for making it happen. I’m grateful for the warm sun on the pirate balcony. I’m grateful for the farmers market. I’m grateful for the life I’ve built. I’m grateful to be sober today.

LAST WEEK ON TFLMS:

song of the week:

TFLMS Weekend: Where Sobriety Isn’t Just a Consequence…

(last weekend)