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I Am Dead Man Alive

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Santosh Kalwar

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“She stands at the hairpin turn on Night Road. On either side of her, giant evergreens grow clustered together, rising high into the blue summer sky. Even now, in midday, this stubbled, winding ribbon of asphalt holds the morning mist close. This road is like her life; knee deep in shadow. Once, it had been the quickest way home and she’d taken it easily, turning onto its potholed surface without a second thought, rarely noticing how the earth dropped away on either edge. Her mind had been on other things back then, on the miniutae of everyday life. Chores. Errands. Schedules. She hadn’t taken this route in years. Just the thought of it had been enough to make her turn the steering wheel too sharply; better to go off the road than to find herself here. Or so she’d thought until today. People on the island still talk about what happened in the summer of ’04. They sit on barstools and in porch swings and spout opinions, half truths, making judgments that aren’t theirs to make. They think a few columns in a newspaper give them the facts they need. But the facts are hardly what matter. If anyone sees her here, just standing on this lonely roadside in a gathering mist, it will all come up again. Like her, they’ll remember that night, so long ago, when the rain turned to ash….”

LoveDeathLife LessonsFamilyTragedyRedemptionComing Of AgeRestorationAccident
Book:Night Road
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“The lying was killing me! But I have high pain tolerance, especially self- inflicted pain. As I nearly emptied the bottle, I swore I saw Satan in the shadows of the darkened room. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he taunted me. “Congratulations on your diaconal ordination, Stephen.”

ForgivenessMemoirRedemptionCatholicismBiographiesAddiction Recovery12 Step Program
Book:A Saint and a Sinner: The Rise and Fall of a Beloved Catholic Priest
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“I’d taken my vow of celibacy six months ago, and, strangely enough, today, I wouldn’t be asked to lie out loud again. But deep down in my conscience, that place where I hadn’t spent enough quality time, I knew I was an imposter.”

ForgivenessMemoirRedemptionCatholicismBiographiesAddiction Recovery12 Step Program
Book:A Saint and a Sinner: The Rise and Fall of a Beloved Catholic Priest
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“As a young child, I realized that if I presented myself as perfect—caring, generous, understanding, and compliant— then I could control how people felt about me. At all costs, I wanted to be loved! I’d created a fantasy persona, but even now, I couldn’t recognize how far I had strayed from my self-imposed standard of perfection. I guess that’s what happens to a person when they receive too much praise. Was I as wonderful as everyone painted me? Or was I a skilled con artist? I had been riding the superiority- inferiority seesaw all weekend. As I grappled with a carousel of gnawing thoughts, I drank my third shot of scotch and snorted some blow, all to crush any self-doubt.”

ForgivenessMemoirRedemptionCatholicismBiographiesAddiction Recovery12 Step Program
Book:A Saint and a Sinner: The Rise and Fall of a Beloved Catholic Priest
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“With a shooting pain to my head, I closed my eyes tight and envisioned the disgusted look on my mother’s face. The blueprint of the perfect child that Mom had so carefully crafted was incompatible with the lying, cheating, stealing man I had become; I felt worthless. But I had a new master, one that controlled my body, mind, and soul.”

ForgivenessMemoirRedemptionCatholicismBiographiesAddiction Recovery12 Step Program
Book:A Saint and a Sinner: The Rise and Fall of a Beloved Catholic Priest
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