Are there rapids in Grand Rapids? Maybe I should have researched this more… I don’t really know a lot about Grand Rapids, even though I am from Michigan. But it might be a little late to worry about that now. All my worldly goods are on an eighteen-wheeler heading into a snowstorm and I am spending the night at a Red Roof Inn on the highway somewhere between West Virginia and Michigan.
I am staying, for the first time in my life, in a RRI because my GPS took me off the perfectly acceptable expressway somewhere south of Ohio and it was the only roadhouse (after 11 hours of driving) that didn’t look like I’d be hacked to death with a knife in the shower…
I have not known how to make an announcement about my move. I didn’t want to seem too full of myself or too needy for attention (that behavioral fine line we walk every time we shout, “Hey you guys, look at me!”). But this is a big deal.
As you know, I have done some writing, addiction treatment center for women, for the past few months. We met because their staff reads the blog and we all have a lot in common. I have been to their gorgeous facility to do a reading; brainstorm about social media marketing; and meet with their embracing, skilled and professional staff. I found so much comfort and connection there – mixed with the kind of moxie and outside-of-the-box thinking I admire – that going to work for them seemed almost preordained.
I have been offered the job of Director of Marketing for Sanford House, and you have GOT to know I said, “YES!” A resounding yes. But the “yes” has inevitable consequences…
Yesterday I couldn’t write this: I was busy reeling from all the “goodbyes,” and all the well wishes and all the long, long hugs. Not those tilt in; touch only at the top of the body; pat-pat-pat the back kind of hugs. Deep, resounding, silent connection with those I love and those who have helped to make this good fortune happen for me.
I have so much to say. I have so much to tell you about what recovery means to me. About what friendship and family and community means to me. About the ways to define success and the fact that you are never too broken or too alone or too old to reinvent yourself and atone. Just not today. Today I am still busy reeling from all the “goodbyes”.
I am uniquely qualified for this job. It is perfect for me. Thank God, Rae and David Green, founders of Sanford House, recognized it – the talent and training buried for so long under a small town water tower’s worth of white wine and regret.
Think for a moment about this incredible full circle. About the fact my singular focus can now be helping those who struggle with addiction. I just need to get through the transition without crying every two minutes. And I need to finish the drive – spinning forward into my glorious new adventure – before I get snowed in…