On June 25, 2018, my best friend passed away. My grandfather, Edward J. Willi, was the greatest man I ever knew. He was the epitome of all I ever want to be — kind, generous, honest, loyal, heroic, and a man of great faith.
My grandfather, or Tata as I’d call him, was a raging alcoholic. From 1950 – 1980, he drank himself into oblivion each and every day. He was absent. He was not a father, nor a husband, nor a friend, nor a functioning human being. He was everything I didn’t want to be.
He nearly drank himself to death. At a doctors appointment in the late 70’s, my Tata was told that if he didn’t put at end to these habits, he had 3 months to live. The excessive drinking, along with a diagnosis of prostate cancer left him face to face with death — that is, until the hand of God went to work in his life.
It was after this death sentence that my grandfather began to abide by the wise words of the Serenity Prayer. The Serenity Prayer is the backbone of the Alcoholics Anonymous Program. It reads:
“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.”
It’s the mantra to live by, and it’s what my Tata began to live. To accept the things he couldn’t change, like his past. The courage to change the things he could, like his current status as an alcoholic. And, the wisdom to know the difference — to leave some things in God’s hands, and to take control of others.
He was given 3 months to live, but instead continue to thrive and prosper for forty more years. He was given forty years that were filled with outreach, service, giving, and life in it’s purest form. He was given forty years in which he helped other drinkers get back on their feet, reached out to those whose lives were in shambles and offered them the encouragement that, if he could do it, so could they. He was given forty wonderful years of time with his family — traveling, laughing, celebrating the moments that he was given. He was given forty wonderful years of living by the exact words of that Serenity prayer. He wasn’t able to change what he had done, his past decisions, or the repercussions of them. But, he could have the courage to change the next forty that he was given.
He did.
I found my Grandfather’s lifeless body last summer and was immediately brought to my knees in grief and sadness. I had lost my greatest and wisest friend. What was once three months, turned into forty magically beautiful years. But, as I said goodbye to him, I made a promise that I’d live my life just as he did: I’d make mistakes, I’d mess up, I’d fail and fall short and do it again, but I’d leave those things in the hands of God. I’d surrender what was not meant for me to control. I’d be the best person I could possibly be. I’d strive to be the best. I would serve others, and do unto others as I’d want done to me. I’d help others, to stick by them in their times of need and of suffering. I’d be selfless, generous, and giving of my time, gifts, and blessings. I’d value family more than anything. I’d follow God each moment of my life. I’d live for Him. I’d strive each day to bring him glory.
But more than anything, I’d accept the things I cannot change.
I’d have the courage to change the things I can.
I’d have the wisdom to know the difference.