My Sobering Moment

My friend earned his one year AA sobriety chip and asked me to attend his meeting.  I agreed to go.  I did not know what to wear or what kind of people I would encounter.  I was feeling a little nervous, a little scared and secretly a little superior to those I was sure would show up in attendance.  The meeting was held on campus, close to downtown so I was sure there would be a mix of students and professionals.  All of them would be addicts.  I was sure I would not fit in with them.

The meeting started promptly and that I sat overdressed with my arms crossed, open ears and an open heart.  These people deserved my respect for what they have overcome and my pity for where they have been in their journeys to sobriety; didn't they?  I looked around and surmised the average age of the crowded room was about 22.  I was not just overdressed but now I felt old.  The fresh, innocent faces showed few, if any signs, of their addictions.  One by one, they put a voice to their struggles and it become clear that although I was older than most of them they had all lived enough for four lifetimes.  The journeys and Hell they have seen and lived also made them wiser than I expected.  It was sobering moment when I realized I could learn a lot from an addict.

The meeting took place in a basement but the atmosphere loosely resembled a church.  Actually, it resembled what a church should be.  The honestly in the room was disarming.  "Hi.  I am John and I am an addict/alcoholic"  I smirked when I first heard it because it really was just like in the movies.  After hearing one testimony after another the purity of their words and the strength of their faith was overwhelming.  The was a room full of addicts and alcoholics; this was also a room full of Christians.  My presence in my church every Sunday (most Sundays….) is a declaration that I am weak.  I should stand and say, "Hi, my name is Wendy and I am a sinner," but I don't speak.  I go to church each week for one hour, pray a few times during the week and then question why I sometimes feel lost.  The people in that basement on that day live "church" every minute of every day as a way to stay clean and more importantly to stay alive.

A familiar theme in the meeting was living not in the past or future but the present; this very moment.  When you live in the moment you are fully present and can correct or address actions that cause anxiety. When you live in the moment you live without regret.  That is when it hit me; I am not an addict or alcoholic but I am "one of them" only I at times aspire to reach their level of faith on a daily basis.  We should all be so aware to live with that kind of faith.  I hate to think I would need an addiction to get me there.

To be blunt, I am inspired.  There were no saints in the that room.  We were all sinners just trying to find our way.
Be blessed

For all the thank you's… a piece of my past

E is out playing with a friend, Hunt is watching the game, B is asleep; the house quiet.  I should be tackling my never ending to do list but I am not.  Today I needed a reminder of who I am in this world; who I was and who I have become.  It is rarely a lighthearted journey but as I am buried under blankets today, the heaviness of the search seemed appropriate.

I have written for as long as I can remember.  There are so many of my writings you will never see in print.  Too many pieces are personal to reveal and I have too little confidence to release them to be reviewed and edited by your eyes.  My collection is now in several 3" binders so I chose one and sat down to read my own work.

Here is one I can share, written on Thanksgiving in 1998 for my parents:

For all the thank you's I never said
For all the times you made my bed
For all the words I said in anger
For the times my clothes were not the floor; not the hangar
For the messes I left for you to clean up
For the times I spilled red Kool Aid from my "big girl" cup
For all the times I stumbled in my "walk"
For the times you listened when I wanted to talk
For the times I got a ticket because of my speed
For the times you offered refuge in my time of need
For the times I made you worry and cry
For all my gifts we really could not afford to buy
For the times you punished me when I had done wrong
For not touching the radio dial during my favorite song
For all the bruises, burns and cuts that your kisses healed
For all the letters sent to my dorm that your love sealed
For the time you bit your tongue while you were screaming inside
For each comfort gave as another romance died
For all the times you have welcomed me home
For all the words of wisdom offered over the phone
For all the silent prayers that followed me out the door
For the times I wanted to quit but you encouraged me to do more
For the times you stood up for me to defend my rights
For the times I kept you up all those nights
For the times you donated money to make my ends meet
For the times you know it bruised my ego so you made it discreet
For the times you gave me space for problems only I could work out
For all the times I nodded while having no idea what you were talking about
For the family you gave me and the memories we made
I owe my life to you and all the love I have saved
We have stood together through the years, some good and some bad
I am eternally grateful that I have you, Mom and Dad
--Wendy 11/98

Here we are, so many years later, and the meaning holds true.  Today, I would add a few lines about helping with the grand kids, celebrating good health, etc, etc.  but I am still eternally grateful for my family and today also, more than ever for my home and its heater.
Be Blessed!