Timothy H. Moylan — Author & Inspirational Speaker
My Dearest Tim,
Through the Eyes of the Person Who Stood Beside Him
Tim's story wasn't lived by Tim alone. The people who loved him were living through it too.
Tim speaks honestly about addiction, hitting rock bottom, faith, recovery, and discovering that life can begin again.
•••A letter from Kayla•••
As I sit down to write you this message, my heart overflows with love, concern, and unwavering support for you. I want you to know that you are not alone in this journey, and together, we will conquer the challenges that lie ahead.
I understand the battles you face each day, the weight of which may sometimes seem unbeareable. Alcoholism is a formidable opponent, but I want you to know that I believe in your strength and resilience. You are capable of overcoming this, and I am here to walk by your side every step of the way.
I’ve witnessed your struggles, your moments of triumph, and your unwavering determination to break free from the chains of addiction. Your courage inspires me, and I am endlessly proud of the progress you’ve made.
You are the best, most loving and devoted husband and father. It is abundantly clear that our daughters and I are your priority. Addiction changes that priority for you. I am filled with profound sadness, and it breaks my heart to witness the toll it takes on you, on us, on our family.
I want you to envision a future filled with joy, peace, and fulfillment. A future where alcohol no longer holds power over your life, where you can chase your dreams and bask in the love of those who hold you dear...........
Read more from Kayla in Tim's book
---Kayla
Excerpt from Chapter 8 - Pope and Gross Seed
Shortly after Christmas break in 1993, a kid named John transferred in from Omaha. He was Italian, dressed sharp, and wore a flat-brim hat, something you just did not see in our country town. To us, he looked like a gangster. He caught my attention right away, and I wanted to know who he was.
I remember sitting in front of him in seventh period drafting class, turning around in my chair and staring at him.
“What’s up?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I got caught off guard. “My name is Tim. What’s yours?”
“John.”
Over the next couple of weeks, I made it a point to get to know John a little better each day. The more we learned about him, the more we started calling him “Pope,” short for Pope John. He was far from a saint.
Excerpt from Chapter 15 - Am I Dreaming?
The doctor came in a few minutes later and introduced himself. He explained that my spleen had been lacerated by a broken rib and that somewhere between 80 and 90 percent of my body’s blood had been bleeding into my abdominal cavity. Because of that, he said, I was extremely lucky to be alive.
That was when I started crying.
I could not believe I was still alive, especially after basically giving it all away twenty-four hours earlier. I was grateful to be alive, but I also knew I had a long road ahead of me.
One evening I woke up and looked down toward the foot of my bed. Sitting there was a family friend named Mark Arens.
He told me he was worried I was going down the same path he had gone down and lived through with the horrible disease of alcoholism. As he talked, Mark started crying. I will never forget the message he left me with: do not let the addiction win.
He told me I was better than this addiction and that if I ever needed help fighting it, AA was where I should go.
Sometimes God sends people into our lives just to deliver an important message. Mark was one of those people for me.
Excerpt from Chapter 19 - Valley Hope
“Yeah,” I said. “About six beers on the way here.”
She nodded. “Okay. We’ll put you in the detox room for the next forty-eight to seventy-two hours to make sure you’re medically stable before we start treatment.”
I hugged Colleen. She was tearing up.
“I’ll be okay, Coll,” I said. “I love you.”
I shook Pat’s hand, grabbed my suitcase, and followed the woman behind the desk.
I lay down on the bed closest to the door and stared at the ceiling, wondering what I had just walked into. Over and over in my head I told myself, It’s out of your control now, Tim. You’ll be fine.
The first couple of days at Valley Hope were long and lonely. I went to the first few therapy sessions and mostly kept my mouth shut unless I was asked a direct question. Just listening was eye-opening. It did not take long to see how addiction affected everyone, no matter their background.
Like they say, addiction does not discriminate, and that could not have been more true.
Excerpt from Chapter 22 - South BAy Correctional Facility
As we pulled into the condo parking lot, I immediately spotted an outdoor bar at the Roland Martin Marina called The Tiki Bar. I knew right then this place was going to be perfect for my nightly drinking. I could walk across the lot, drink as much as I wanted, and not worry about driving or getting pulled over. Thank God for Trish. She had just made this job a whole lot better, and I could not wait.
The next couple of weeks were long but interesting days at the prison. Even though we did not get back to the condo until around 7:00 p.m., I would shower up and head straight to The Tiki Bar. Most nights I stayed until midnight, sometimes skipping dinner altogether, then stumbled back to bed and woke up six hours later to do it all over again.
Sundays were our day off, supposedly for laundry and rest, but I usually spent them at The Tiki Bar watching pro fishermen roll through the marina in their $100,000 boats, weighing fish for televised tournaments.
Excerpt from Chapter 29 - Am I Able and Willing
Not long after, Dr. Gray came in to check on me and talk through how the surgery had gone and what the next steps in my recovery would be. He explained that we were not one hundred percent in the clear yet. Because I had waited so long to come in, my heart had been functioning at only five to ten percent toward the end, and it had taken a serious toll on my lungs.
He repeated to me that I was very lucky to be alive and that if I wanted another chance at living a long life, I could never drink again.
After he left, the room went still.
I stared at my sisters and my wife and wondered how I had let my life get this close.
This close to dying.
You still might not make it. You still have to fight, Tim. Start praying.
That is all you have right now.
I have a lot of potential, I thought to myself. I want kids. I want to live a wonderful life with my wife. I want to see my siblings, nieces, and nephews again. It is going to take everything I have, every single day of my life, to overcome this disease. But I can do it, and I will do it.
I was not going to give up.
