A living amends

Imagine going to sleep, waking up and finding out you killed somebody. 
That's exactly what happened to me. 
Three years ago, I was drunk and fell asleep at the wheel. I'm not trying to make excuses.
But I never ever would have done such a thing on purpose. And if there were 
some way I could go back and change it, I would. 
In fact, I've been sober ever since.
Now I'm paying for my crime by being incarcerated two weeks a year for the 
next 10 years.
This blog follows my journey afterward, trying to put my life back together in 
between spending a week in jail at Christmas and at Father's Day each year.

Eddy McCreery is on  my mind everyday.
I think about him as I go about my daily life, working, going to recovery meetings, in my interactions with family and friends, and especially when I speak to groups about the accident.
I have been doing that a lot lately. I guess that's what I felt compelled to write again.
Today, I spoke to a support group for women whose children were taken by the Department of Children's Services because of mother's drug use.
On Feb. 10, I was at a local church speaking to about 50 youth and six adult workers.
The audience changes, but the message is always the same: this is what can happen to you if you drink and drive.
I tell them how I had everything in the world going for me.
I was married while I was going to college, and then divorced and became a single mother, who was holding down a job as a reporter first in Dickson and then in Gallatin.
My second year out of the gate as a professional journalist, I won second place in the Tennessee Press Association Contest for best news reporting for a series of stories I wrote about groundwater contamination, stemming from the illegal dumping of toxic chemicals in the Dickson County Landfill.
In Gallatin, I won two first-place awards at the TPA contest, one in 2007 for best news reporting, and one in 2009 for best single feature.
I had three wonderful children, a daughter and two sons, who lived with me two weeks out of every month and with their dad the same amount of time in a joint-custody arrangement.
Perry Baggs, my longtime boyfriend who died in July, was an accomplished musician, a founding member of Jason and The Scorchers, the pioneers of alternative country music, and more specifically, a music genre some call country punk or cowpunk.
The Americana Music Association awarded JATS a lifetime achievement award in best performance in 2008, the band has a display at the Country Music Hall of Fame, and more than three decades of critical acclaim from around the world. 
I was living a dream life.

...

But somewhere down deep, I was unhappy and it manifested in self-destructive ways.
I smoked marijuana daily for 18 years. I had started drinking at the age of 15, and although alcohol wasn't my drug of choice, it was the one that ultimately took all my choices away.
I was on prescription Xanax, and I only abused it one time, the night I had the accident which ended Eddy McCreery's life.
My decision to mix Xanax and alcohol cost a man his life, and a family a husband, father, brother and uncle.
That's something I can never truly make right, but I am trying, in my own way, to do what I can to make what my program of recovery refers to as a living amends to the McCreery family.
This entails living a sober life, a life that is accountable to a sponsor and to others in recovery and ultimately to my higher power, who I call God.
It involves humbling myself every time I tell my story to a different group, every time I play the WSMV footage of my arrest and three subsequent stories and the audio of the 911 call that came in shortly after the accident occurred.
I have seen and heard those recordings countless times now, but it still feels like someone is stabbing me in the heart every time I realize the pain I caused the McCreery family and my own family, a wound that will never truly heal.

...

I liken what I did to a tornado that tore two families apart. The McCreerys lost someone they loved forever, or until they meet him in heaven, if you believe as I do.
Mine suffered as three families were forced to live under one roof, and shove two extra households of furniture in two barn buildings, an attic and a basement.
My children had to move to White House and be separated from their mother for the majority of the last three years. I have only been able to see them every other weekend during that time. I have very few pictures. I can't be in their lives daily to be a parent. It's impossible to be a momma over the phone, but I do my best.
I try to cherish the time I do have with them and not dwell on their absence, but on some nights the separation anxiety I feel, coupled with the sometimes debilitating grief I experience over Perry's death, makes it nearly impossible to be positive.
Then, there's the jail time.
I know many will say 'it could be a lot worse.'
Yes. I know that.
But it doesn't make the time I spend there any easier, or make it go by any faster.
Every day you spend in lockup feels like a week. Weeks feel like months, and months feel like years.
The state also revoked my driver's license, and I although I have a job, I am extremely underemployed.

I am not trying to elicit sympathy. I simply want the reader to know my consequences extend way beyond 10 years of probation and two weeks of incarceration a year.
The time I have lost with my children alone is severe punishment for my crimes. It's not their fault, but they are suffering because of my actions.
These consequences will not end today or tomorrow. Some will last 8 more years. Some will last a lifetime.

...

Although, I can easily get down thinking about the ramifications of my actions, I can just as easily feel inspired about the work I am doing to spread the message in and around the Nashville area.
That's what gets me through the hard times.
I am court-ordered to speak twice a year, on Mr. McCreery's birthday, Feb. 10, and on the anniversary of the accident, Oct. 22, but I do it as often as possible.
I believe that God can work through me to make a difference.
So, when I think about the mission, if you will, nothing else matters.
I am inspired when I hear mothers come to me and tell me how their teenage sons kicked a drug habit after hearing my speech.
I know I must be doing something right.
God is working through me to make all of this possible.
Without his blessing, without the Holy Spirit leading, guiding and directing my words and my path, there can be no stories like that one to be told.


...

I recently read the book of Jonah in the Bible.
He was the one who ran from the Lord, and ended up being thrown into the sea and swallowed into the belly of a big fish for his disobedience.
I could relate to the rebellion, and the ultimate humility that took place in that man of God's heart.
For it is only through our humility and our willingness to turn our will and lives over to a higher power that we will be happy, joyous and free. Self sacrifice and service to others also play a vital role in that transformation.
I don't make this stuff up. I have lived it.
You would be amazed at the good things that will happen if you are willing to let the God of your understanding take the wheel.
So, I guess what I am trying to say here is that I have realized I am not in charge of my own destiny.
God is.
And he can be in charge of yours, too, if you let him.


...

If you take nothing else away from this blog, please remember what happened to Eddie McCreery, what happened to me, what happened to my children, Kristen, Ian and Kavanaugh, and think about your loved ones.
Are you willing to lay your addictions, your habits and hangups down, and seek God's help?
All it takes is this simple prayer: "God help me."
Then, take action.
Go to inpatient or outpatient rehab, if you can. Find recovery at a local NA or AA clubhouse.
Get a sponsor. Work a program, and be accountable for your actions.
Ask for God to lead, guide and direct your paths.
He will never leave you or forsake you.
Amen.