36 YEARS AND 5 MONTHS
36 YEARS AND 5 MONTHS
The speaker "Three Legacies" meeting Monday night was partially populated by a bus load of Peeps from one of Naples' treatment centers. Afterwards I found myself talking with a few of the guys and a girl. Someone had introduced me to this small group as, "This is Steve--he just celebrated 36 years of sobriety!"
Conversation got rolling and we got to discussing their prospects (future) after Treatment. I found a chance to mention that my step-daughter had last summer gone through the same 28-day program they were now experiencing, that she had 5 months of clean and sober.
Suddenly came the questions, "How did she DO it?" and "Wow that's a LOT of time." "OMG, not one drink?" "Where does she go to meetings?" And so smiling, happily, I answered their questions. Upon leaving, I said to them all, "Welcome to AA. Hello! And Welcome Home"...
Instantly, I decided to never again tell newly sober Peeps a single WORD which smells of my length of sober time. The new person cannot wrap his brain around 36 years! But a new Peep can surely see the possibility of 5 months! And isn't that amazing? And isn't that wonderful! And I had heard that before--just pridefully--for the moment--forgot!
The mother of my children died this afternoon after a nearly-year battle with all kinds of cancer. She had been living for 5 years with my daughter in another city. She and I had been married for 25 years before our divorce 20 years ago. I have been so busy this evening, that my thoughts have not yet gathered, but somewhat ambivalent they are at this moment.
My tendency is to revisit and "see" the stage play of many years of wonderful moments, wonderful memories, rather than "observe" any of the scenes of my drunkenness, which are from so long ago, and so hurtful, even after all has been said and done.
I shall go in the "music room" now, and, in darkness, "talk" to the saint which is how I have known her more recently. It is she who put the words of my father into a poetic beat. Goodbye "N"...it WAS a helluva ride, for many years.
Good night to you, my Peeps.
Serene on the outside.