The Day I Became A Kelvington A.K.A. Elby's Big Boy, root beer and 6 months and counting.....

I am adopted. Many of you know that. Here's one for you though. I was officially, legally made a member of the Kelvington family on February 14th, 1968. My parents brought me home that day and that was that. When I got older, every Valentine's Day my family and I would go to the Elby's Big Boy restaurant out on 12th Street in my hometown of Erie, Pa and I would have the same thing; spaghetti and garlic bread followed by a slice of strawberry pie, all washed down by copious amounts of root beer served in one of those ubiquitous red chain-restaurant beverage cups. Every year the same ritual from probably age 7 until age 15, I had that meal at that restaurant. A fond memory that on today's date, February 14th, 2015, made me go to the store and buy a root beer to drink. Why? More on that later.

I am adopted. Many of you know that. Here's one for you though. I have met my birth-mother and my half-sister and brother. I have been in contact with the family of the gentleman who was my father. He passed away before I had the chance to meet him. However, I know these truths. He is African-American. He loved rock-and-roll. He was athletic. He and his friend Henry, who was the lead singer in a popular Dunkirk-area band called "Malcolm and the Rising Tides" left his home one day to hitchhike to a concert. When they returned home two days later they told all their friends about having been at Woodstock. He moved to Oakland, Ca. where he worked with the homeless population. He battled with substance abuse. He has a nephew named William who is my twin. I wish I could have met him before he passed away, I have so many questions I'd have loved to ask him about his life. One day soon I'm going to visit Dunkirk, NY and meet his extended family. This is VERY important to me. Why? More on that later.

I am adopted. Many of you know that. Here's one for you though. My son is me in more ways than one. They say that males who are alcoholic and come from alcoholic genetics have children with a 1 in 2 chance of becoming alcoholics. This has been proven by YEARS of longitudinal studies. Statistics don't lie. This is VERY important to me. Why? More on that later.

I am adopted. Many of you know that. here's one for you though. I have two sisters. They were adopted as well, but they're really SISTERS! This is what happened. My parents had been talking about adopting a child. They had a friend who was a priest who did missionary work. He had gone to a town in Honduras called Tegucigalpa on a mission, and out of the blue he called my parents and asked if they were ready to adopt. He had two young girls who needed to leave the country immediately. My parents said yes with no hesitation. The two girls had a father who was a politician who was trying to effect change in a VERY corrupt part of his government. When Father Gracien was visiting Tegucigalpa he had met their father. He called my parents after finding out that while the family was eating dinner the night before, a group of men came into the family home and shot the father, his wife and one son. My sisters and their other brother were unharmed. The brother was taken by an uncle. 72 hours later, two girls aged 10 and 8, and who spoke ZERO english, were sitting in a living room in a suburb of Pittsburgh, Pa. called Bethel Park, at my grandmother and grandfather's house. 55 Ruthfred Drive to be exact. This is VERY important to me. Why? More on that later.

And, here's the later. I share all this because I am asking myself what my limits are. How far am I capable of going in order to achieve a daily modicum of sobriety, gratitude and joy for the smallest blessings? How far am I capable of going in finding out every single thing I can about who I am and where my genes came from? How far am I capable of going to live the ABSOLUTE healthiest lifestyle I can? To become above and beyond in that regard, which requires the utmost in discipline. How far am I capable of going in reviving my relationships with my sisters? They're as close as they can be, but I want to re-add myself to the equation. How far am I capable of going in cementing ideals and examples within my son's mindset? And ESPECIALLY as a sober adult? How far am I capable of going in becoming a musician again? These are all questions that I am going to ponder for the next six months.

Why the next six months? Today, on the yearly anniversary of my legally becoming a Kelvington, I found out that my mother's tumors have all grown, and there's many more new ones. She cannot have any more chemotherapy. The pills they could give her have horrifying and painful side-effects. She is 91 pounds and growing weaker every day. The doctors looked her straight in the face and told her she will not last longer than six months. I am pissed off. I am terrified. I am sad beyond belief. I am grateful I am sober. I am inspired.

I ask you, what can YOU commit to for six months? You read what I am committing to, tell me what YOU'RE willing to give for six months. Do it privately. If you wish to share what that may be with me you can email me @ slowdownyourday@yahoo.com.

Six months. I will live every day as though I am never going to die.............