November

November 1, 2005


  My daughter and son-in-law just left. They came for dinner--a regular habit of theirs. I love having them over even if it means extra work in the kitchen because I love seeing them, and of course, Miles. My grandson wasn't a happy camper tonight--that's why they left early. He was inconsolable--crying and crying. It was clear something was bothering him, or there was something he wanted, but none of us knew how to help him. It was heartbreaking to watch and hear.

  Does that sound vaguely familiar? I guess if you were an Al-Anon member, you would totally relate to the hopelessness and heartbreak of watching someone you love in distress while you stood by helplessly, unable to do anything. We all tried to quiet and soothe the baby-- Four adults and zero success. He seemed to be beyond human aid. Does that ring another bell? No human power could have relieved our alcoholism.

  I was like that unhappy baby. If I wasn't wailing on the outside, I was certainly crying on the inside and there was absolutely nothing my husband or children could do to help me, though God knows they tried. I didn't even know what I wanted--I only knew I didn't want what I had. I didn't want to be who I was or do what I was doing anymore.

  Today I am grateful that I was able to cry out for help, and Someone knew what I needed.

November 9, 2005


  I sent in an entry to our Round Up slogan contest today. Let me try it out on you guys and see what you think.

  Get On Life Support--Plug In To A.A.

  What do you think Muse Readers? Well, ain't it the truth? Goodness gracious! I hope I remain plugged in to AA--it's keeping me alive.

  There I was over four years ago, dying in every sense of the word. I needed extraordinary measures to come back to life. A mercy killing would have been Plan B for I had no quality of life. I cried out to God and he said "CLEAR!" and got my heart started with His Divine Defibrillators. Then He hooked me up with AA for Life Support.

  Early in my recovery I kept hearing people say "get plugged in to AA and stay plugged in." I didn't comprehend the suggestion at the time, but I certainly do now. If I pull this plug, I am in danger and I know it--I could go Code Blue.

  Today I am grateful for my connection, my life support system.

November 10, 2005


  I sometimes share portions of a daily devotional I receive online. This was in yesterdays:

  I read once about a drowning boy who was struggling frantically to save himself. On the bank his distraught mother pleaded with a man to save her son, but the man made no move. When the boy weakened and gave up the struggle to save himself, the man then jumped into the stream and rescued him.

  "Why didn't you save my boy sooner?" the mother asked.

  "I couldn't as long as he struggled," the man replied. "He would have dragged us both to death. When he gave up the struggle to save himself, it was easy to rescue him."

  I can apply that story to my own life and my struggle with alcoholism. It was only when I gave up the struggle that God was able to rescue me from drowning in that amber liquid. My family had tried everything to save me, to no avail, and I was dragging them down with me.

  In my morning-after haze the day after I last drank, when my wounds were fresh and deeper than they had ever been before; when my head was fogged and dizzy; when it seemed I was in no apparent state to make any rational decision; that was the moment I gave up the struggle and made the most rational and profoundly important choice of my life. I surrendered, I gave up, and I ceased struggling. My weary heart and soul was out of fight.

  Have I used this old hymn before in the Muses?

  "I was sinking deep in sin far from the peaceful shore--Very deeply stained within, sinking to rise no more--But the Master of the sea heard my despairing cry--From the waters lifted me, now safe am I--Love lifted me, love lifted me--When nothing else would help--Love lifted me."

  Well, that's what happened. Love lifted me.

  Today I am grateful I stopped struggling long enough to be lifted from the waves of despair.



November 11, 2005


  There is a gentle rain falling and it has coaxed the sweet scent of the sages forth, filling the air with heavenly aroma. I have been sitting out back on the patio listening to the raindrops, drinking in the smells and sounds, and being respectfully grateful to the Creator who made it all possible.

  Gratitude has always been my favorite meeting topic because it forces all of us to acknowledge our blessings, sometimes whether we want to or not. The mere fact that we are alive to sit in a meeting is reason enough to be grateful, but there is always so much more.

  There is sobriety and a support group that specializes in our disease. How fortunate we are to have that and not be alone ever again as long as we remain a part of the fellowship.

  There is the hope of a better life and people to show us how to achieve it--asking nothing in return for their services.

  And what about service itself? It's something many do not consider a blessing, but once you avail yourself to be of service to others, you understand why it's something for which you can be grateful, for it is in the giving that we receive. We reap what we sow.

  That is only the beginning of every alcoholic's gratitude list, and we all have that available to us--each and every one of us. My gratitude list today is a mile longer than it was when I first put the bottle down, and I add to it every day.

  Today I am grateful for Tom and Karen S. Without them, I wouldn't have known how yummy Buttermilk Pie tastes.



November 12, 2005


  OK--yesterday was gratitude so today, I think I'll talk about attitude.

  In my active alcoholism, my attitude was bad. I was negative, cynical, critical, judgmental, belligerent, confrontational---oh yikes! I could go on forever about how awful it was.

  Today my attitude has improved tremendously. I have a pretty good one most of the time. I'd be fibbing if I said it was great all the time, but when you have gratitude, your attitude automatically gets better. I do know that when I fall back into the habit of magnifying my troubles instead of my blessings, my gratitude slows and my attitude blows. The two are intertwined. I have found that it's darn near impossible to have a bad attitude IF my gratitude quotient is high.

  And that concludes today's Muse, Faithful Readers--short and sweet--just like the short and sweet grandson in my living room right now who probably needs some sugars from Granny Nan.

  Today I am grateful for baby kisses.

November 13, 2005


  Howdy y'all!

  Some of you know this already but my license plate says LOLYALL--which of course, stands for 'laugh out loud y'all.'

  Laughter is something I have mused about before and will most likely do again. I love having laughter in my daily life. Recovery has given me laughter where once there was only tears and pain. I love to hang out with my Home Girls because I know I'll laugh until my sides hurt sometimes, or tears run down my cheeks.

  My daughter was in the kitchen last night getting some chocolate pie. She got the canned whipped cream out of the fridge, turned it upside down over her pie, and pushed the nozzle. It squirted sideways and sprayed all over the kitchen faucet. I'm telling you---we both burst into fits of giggles--trying to be quiet because the baby was asleep and failing at stifling the laughter. We just couldn't do it. I went to bed that night and thought about it and had to suppress another fit of giggling. I'm giggling about it now!

  Laughter just feels SO good and it also HEALS so good! Look at Norman Cousins--he cured his cancer with laughter.

  Today I am grateful for laughter.

November 14, 2005


Serving Him will serve you well,
Unless you'd rather return to Hell,
You'll pay with your soul--
Is that cost too high?
Then make your decision--
Shall I live or die?

  Today I chose to live--I did not take a drink. Today I decided that my soul was too great a price to buy a lie. I sold my soul to the devil for oblivion once, but oblivion didn't last. I had to keep selling pieces of me to assuage my guilt and shame--to hide from the truth; my truth. I was a hopeless, pitiful, sad alcoholic. I was enslaved and ruled by the darkness and couldn't see the sun.

  It feels good to feel the light on my face. It's glorious to be warmed by love and hope. The world of addiction is cold and callous. We wither and shrivel up without the Sunlight of the Spirit spilling into our lives. Nothing good can grow in our hearts--alcohol renders them infertile.

  Today my heart is rich and fertile. It produces a bounty of joyous and wondrous things. The weeds have been removed, one Step at a time, and when they sprout anew, I try to promptly remove them.

  Today I am grateful for that. Good sobriety is like Miracle Grow for the heart, mind, body, and soul.

November 15, 2005
 

                              He Was There
He was there all the time I was dying inside.
He was there through the fear I was trying to hide.
Never turning His back He would not be denied.
All the while, every mile, He was there.

He was there through the years that I floundered in sin.
He was there even though I would not let Him in.
He never gave up although I gave up on Him.
All the while, every mile, He was there.

He was my eyes when I was blind, my legs when I was lame,
My breath when I was drowning,
My light when darkness came.
I cried out in desperation and humbly called His name.
He heard my cries, I realized that He was there.

He was there watching me slowly falling from grace.
He was there standing o’er me with tears on His face.
His arms held me close in His loving embrace.
All the while, every mile, He was there.

He was there loving me when I turned Him away.
He was there even when I forgot how to pray.
He kept me from harm in my darkest of days.
All the while, every mile, He was there.

He was my eyes when I was blind, my legs when I was lame,
My breath when I was drowning, my light when darkness came.
I cried out in desperation and humbly called His name.
He heard my cries, I realized that He was there…..He still was there.

Today I am grateful for this song--a gift from God a few days before I took my year chip. I held the pen, but He put the words in my heart. He was always there-- waiting, loving me, and hoping I would let Him back into my life.

November 16, 2005


Step 3:
Made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.

  This was our Step Study reading this morning. I love the Step and Book studies. Hearing the words read aloud really drives them home, aids in comprehension, and gives them life. Then you have the added benefit of discussing the material and garnering input and interpretations that may not have occurred by just reading silently at home. It was suggested to me many times when I came into recovery, as early as my first meeting, to join a Book and Step Study.

  Step 3 for me is a daily action. I turn my will and life over to God every morning in my prayers upon arising. I ask for His guidance and wisdom for the day ahead of me. I like that the word 'care' is added to that sentence--the care of God. I like my dictionary definition of care: watchful attention. Doesn't that conjure up images of security and love? Tender, loving care--that's what I like to think--actually, it's what I know my Creator gives me.

  Today I am grateful for His watchful attention.

November 17, 2005


  Mercy sakes! Four years of sobriety and I still deal with those old insecurities from time to time. If someone who usually writes regularly doesn't send an e-mail for a week or so, I start backtracking--wondering what I might have said or done to upset or anger them. Even if I get one of those "mail returned--unable to send" messages in my e-mail, I get squirrelly. I get this little ball in my stomach about the size of a BB and by the end of the day, it's a soccer ball. My mind says "they don't want to receive your mail any more--they've blocked you." Cah-razy man!

  Why do I do that? I know---I can hear you all answering. It's that little word; the one the Big Book says is "an evil and corroding thread." It further states that "the fabric of our existence was shot through with it" and that it "ought to be classed with stealing" because "it seems to cause more trouble."

  That, of course, would be FEAR and it's almost always False Evidence Appearing Real. Funny how I never realized the significance of that comparison until now--the "stealing" part. That is exactly what fear does--it steals precious time from us. We worry and fret over false assumptions until we're a mass of anxiety.

  In my case, I fall back into mental script-writing, which is dangerously insane. I was slipping into that mode earlier, then thank goodness my grandson came along to distract me by spending the day with me and by the time he left just a while ago, I was nearly restored to sanity. I stepped outside to pray and meditate, and now all is well in my world.

  Today I am grateful my scripts go into the shredder.

November 18, 2005


  For the most part, the Muses are like my diary and you guys are sneaking a peek at it every day--with my permission of course. It's kind of an online daily journal for me. Sometimes, I have a thought about what I'll muse on early in the day, or during my evening prayer and meditation, or something I read or maybe something I heard at a meeting is my inspiration. Sometimes it's something specific that happened, like the death of someone in recovery; the latest animal crisis here at my house, or the birth of a miracle grandbaby. But sometimes--like tonight, I just sit down and start typing, not knowing what I'm going to write, but just knowing I must. This is not only 12 Step work for me, but it is valuable therapy.

  It was a wonderful day. I didn't drink--didn't even think about it, I made the women's meeting this morning--awesome as usual, I had some company in the late afternoon, and I saw my daughter, son-in-law, and Miles the Magnificent this evening. We all had homemade soup and cornbread and blueberry cobbler for dessert, then we had a family meeting that went surprisingly well.

  So, I didn't win the lottery, I haven't published a novel, I didn't do anything spectacular, but it was a glorious day! There was no chaos, no broken windows or hearts, no affections uprooted, no puking, urinating in public, or fist fights. I remember everything about my day, and what's more--I will remember it tomorrow. That's pretty darn cool.

  Today I am grateful for average, uneventful days because they feel like heaven compared to the ones I used to have.

November 19, 2005


  Another aaaaahhhhh day--I hope you don't get tired of hearing about them. My days are so full and my heart spills over from the fullness. Again--nothing extraordinary happened--but for a hopeless alcoholic who climbed from the depths of despair and anguish, it was a day of blessings.

  Here's how it went:

  I slept in til 8:30, got up and did my morning prayer and meditation, had coffee, read the paper, talked to my daughter on the phone, then went to a fabulous meeting. I came home, watched my grandson for an hour, then he left, I gobbled a bowl of cereal, did some cleaning and at 4 my second baby-sitting gig of the day began--Two 7 year-old boys and a 5 year-old girlie girl. Right after they arrived I fixed them some chicken strips and mac and cheese for dinner.

  Parker, who had never been here before because his daddy just married Ethan and Eden's mommy (those are the two I've watched since they were babies) said "these are the best chicken strips I've ever had." Ethan, bless his heart, said "Nan makes her own chicken strips and she even knows how to make her own icing for cakes. She makes lots of good stuff."

  My heart swelled up and threatened to close off my throat. Oh-- The gifts of sobriety!

  Let's see--then we all sat in the living room floor and made refrigerator magnets from craft kits, then we played Slap Jack, Nutty Elephant, Don't Break the Ice, War, and Go Fish. Laughter, giggles, and squeals filled the room and I felt so grateful to God for this wonderful day.

  I took so many things for granted when I was drinking. I refused all these magnificent gifts that were there for the taking, but I chose booze over them. Sheesh....I needed one of those Life for Dummies books or something. Oh, I'm not saying there weren't games and laughter, or good meals. I'm not implying there was zero fun in my life. I loved those kids, I loved my animals, I bowled, I went to parties, dinner, vacations--I had some moments, but I never appreciated anything. I didn't realize how blessed I was to have them. Through it all, alcohol was in the forefront of my thoughts and most often coursing through my bloodstream. The pain, sorrow, trouble, and woe it caused me and all my loved ones overshadowed all the good stuff--canceled it out. By the end of my drinking my life could be divided into two simple columns--good and bad. The good column was blank and it would have taken a ream of paper to list the bad stuff.

  Today I am grateful that the good stuff requires a ream of paper and the bad column is blank.

November 20, 2005


  "Faith has to work twenty-four hours a day in and through us, or we perish."
(Big Book, page 16)

  Faith: 1. Allegiance or loyalty to a duty or a person; 2. Belief and trust in God
Faithless: Disloyal, not to be relied on, untrustworthy.

  Hmmm....that sounds pretty cut and dried doesn't it? Now I can see why the group can work as an alcoholic's Higher Power. As long as one remains loyal to a duty, hopefully the group or the program itself, faith can still work. My choice is the second definition--belief and trust in God. Regardless of which one you decide to put your faith in, you have a good chance of staying sober. Putting my faith in God takes me beyond mere sobriety and into perpetual serenity and contentment. Offer me a Hershey bar or a box of Godiva chocolates and I'll take the Godiva every time!

  Faithlessness, on the other hand, offers nothing. It puts us right back into old behaviors. Isn't it interesting that the definition of faithlessness can describe every practicing alcoholic? By the same token, those who don't have faith in some kind of higher power retain those unsavory characteristics even if they have put the bottle down.

  I'll remind you once again, as I occasionally do, that everything I write is my personal opinion, interpretation, or rambling. It's just my thought processing and my mind can sometimes go in odd directions. I have no control--it just takes off without my permission.

  Remember that verse from that song in the 70's or somewhere thereabouts? "There ain't no good guy, there ain't no bad guy--there's only you and me and we just disagree." I think that's a pretty cool life philosophy.

  Today I am grateful for that Apple Cinnamon Bread Pudding I smell baking in my kitchen. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.

November 21, 2005


  Sometimes children throw temper tantrums--it's inevitable and part of childhood. They might cross their little arms, stomp their foot and proclaim "That's not fair!" and follow it up by pouting or sulking.

  Sound familiar? Well, maybe that's because you've done the same thing--as an adult. Maybe even in sobriety? C'mon, we've all done it--maybe not to the extreme a child does, but we do it nevertheless.

  Life can be very unfair or unjust at times. What good does it do to throw a temper tantrum? None.

  With sobriety, I have acquired (notice I said acquired--not regained) maturity, so consequently, my temper tantrums are much fewer and a lot farther between. A "tantrum" for me now consists of grumbling to myself as I pace or drive--all alone, (because I'm ashamed or embarrassed to let someone see me) or the Silent Treatment--that one is reserved solely for my husband.

  My tantrums as a practicing alcoholic were usually a result of not getting my way. My behavior was identical to that of a young child; crying, throwing things, screaming, breaking something, hitting someone, name-calling, and so on and so on and scooby dooby doo. Following a tantrum came revenge or retaliation (I'll show them!) Yikes--when I look back on my past, I see a child in an adults body.

  I love my sponsor's response to her sponsee's temper tantrums. She usually let's us rant for a minute, then replies with "Wah Wah Wah!" I sometimes expect her to shove a pacifier in my mouth.

  Today I am grateful I have grown in sobriety--and grown up.

November 22, 2005


  Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "Though we search the world over for the beautiful, we find it within or we find it not."

  Is that what I was doing all those years I drank--searching for the beautiful? Perhaps.

  If it was, I achieved the opposite effect because I found only ugliness at the bottom of that bottle, which in turn, created the ugliness within me.

  When I came into sobriety, I thought I wanted my insides to match my outsides, but now I know that isn't true. My outsides were as hideous as what dwelled within. I needed a complete makeover. This program has helped me find the beautiful within, which made me look and feel better on the outside automatically.

  I don't consider myself vain--oh I was when I drank...up until the last 6 years anyway, at which point I didn't care about anything--not baths, make-up, hair or anything. Before that I was obsessed with my weight and personal appearance and I was indeed a vain person.

  What I want to focus on now is my inner self, more than the external Nan. I came into the program weighing what I should for my height and age, but I've gained 20 pounds in recovery. Yet I remain content and comfortable in this sober skin. I'm clean, my clothes are hole-free and ironed, my hair is still the worst hair in the world but I shampoo and fix it almost every day. Then again, there are some days, like today, when I am so busy with my full house and grandson I never get out of my jammies and I throw a hat or a bandana on my hair. And that's OK too, even if the propane man shows up. At least I don't greet him reeking of whiskey.

  Sometimes I dress up nice for a meeting, sometimes I'm casual. Getting gussied up for a special dinner is fun, or wearing a tee shirt and jeans to our favorite Mexican restaurant is OK by me as well. I just don't place that much importance on my make-up, figure, or attire.
I have decided that it's all right. I won't worry about what other people think or say and I will no longer be hard on myself because I don't look like I just stepped out of Vogue.

  Today I am grateful for elastic waist pants and roomy tops.



November 23, 2005


  Well, we read Step 4 at our meeting this morning, along with the corresponding pages in the Big Book. Funny how that material doesn't strike fear in my heart like it did when I first read it---before I completed the Step.

  However, the memories always come flooding back when I do go over it again, like today. They have wafted in and out of my consciousness all day and some have lodged just at the threshold---half in, half out.

  Once again, my family was a welcome distraction until I could get out back for my evening meditation and quiet contemplation of the day's events. I grocery shopped for Thanksgiving after the meeting, then came home to a full house--husband, son, daughter, grandson. I put on a pot of beans and allowed myself to get lost in the joy and gratitude of having this family restored and healed. The beans simmered all day until they were nice and thick, then I heated flour tortillas, shredded some cheese, and said "Come and Git it!" Some leftover potato salad and home made chocolate chip cookies rounded out the meal and everyone was full and happy.

  Boy did I get off track! Where was I---oh yes, Step 4. There I go trying to avoid it again like I did 4 years ago. Anyway, what I thought about outside was how thankful I am that I walked through that fear. Had I not completed that heart-pounding, sweat-breaking, dirt-digging, nail-biting, notebook-hiding venture, I would surely be in dire straits now.

  Today I am grateful for Step Study Meetings.

November 24, 2005


  Happy Thanksgiving to All!
I have been in the kitchen since 5:30 and still have an hour of cooking left to do, so I dashed in here to write something and found my daily devotional. It was a Godsend because I am brain-dead. I'm sending it out as my Thanksgiving Muse along with gratitude for you, Faithful Readers and sisters and brothers in sobriety.
It is a Thanksgiving prayer:

Dear Lord,
Please give me...
A few friends who know me
and love me still,
A thankful heart to give you praise
always and in everything,
A trusting mind to keep on believing in
you no matter what the future brings,
A humble, pleasing personality,
A teachable disposition,
A thoughtful, kind, and caring touch,
A forgiving and understanding spirit,
A loving and accepting attitude to communicate
your love to every life I touch,
A worthwhile work into which I can put my
best efforts and thereby help make my
world a better place in which to live, and
A life that will make a difference not only
in my world, but also in my street and,
most of all, in my home.

– Dick Innes

November 25, 2005
 

  Stuffing: noun-- A mixture cornbread, broth, and spices, usually served with turkey.

  Stuffing: verb-- What we do with the aforementioned food and everything else on the table--as in; We all sat there stuffing ourselves on Thanksgiving.

  Oh boy! I am so thankful today. Not only was the feast yummylicious, but it was the first Thanksgiving I have spent with both my kids in 10 years. My fragmented family is mending every day and today was both heartwarming and wonderful.

  We enjoyed each other and our organic meal. Even our turkey was hormone and chemical-free. The vegetarians had fake meat but we fixed it up in holiday style. It was good too--I tasted it.
Before we ate, we took turns saying what we were thankful for and family harmony and togetherness was the running theme.

  After the meal, I took my grandson to the couch and he fell asleep on my chest. It just doesn't get any better than that. What a snuggle-bunny he is. He was wearing a romper with cowboys on it and matching suede cowboy boots that velcroed up the back. That little guy just melts my heart. It was hard to tear myself away and go to my women's meeting but I did and was very glad I went. It was an awesome meeting--lots of gratitude shared, along with laughter and tears.

  Today I am grateful for placemats and cloth napkins--oh, and the good dishes too!

November 26, 2005


  I was out back yesterday--took Scully the Cat out for her afternoon romp, and I noticed she had gone into the gazebo and was really interested in something in the top of it. She was on the spa cover, looking up and occasionally jumping at something. I went over to investigate and discovered a young hummingbird frantically flying around the top of the gazebo. I climbed up and attempted to rescue him, but that little booger was terrified, and he was lightning fast.

  However, he was running out of gas--no telling how long he'd been in there. And he wasn't too bright because there were open windows on all sides of the gazebo, yet he remained up in the domed skylight part. He kept flying into cobwebs and fluttering back out of them, but each time that happened, some of the sticky webs remained on him until they finally slowed him down enough for me to cup my hands around him.

  I was in awe and wonder as he fluttered in my hands. A hummingbird! What are the odds of holding a hummingbird in your hands? I felt so privileged. I gently removed the cobwebs from his delicate little body and let him go. He zipped away, lickity split-- perhaps to warn the others about the little house with no exits.

  I know just how the little guy felt. I was looking desperately for a way out a few years back and could find no exit. I was going nowhere, except around and around and getting more tired by the minute until God caught me in His loving hands and set me down in an AA meeting. In AA, I found a way to get rid of my cobwebs.

  Today I am grateful I can tell others about the exits.

November 27, 2005


  Resentment is the "number one" offender. It destroys more alcoholics than anything else. (Big Book, page 64)

  I've always wondered why 'number one' is in quotation marks in that statement--anybody have the answer to that one? I don't know, but I DO know that resentments are detrimental and destructive in our recovery. They are hurdles, roadblocks, and stop signs on our path of progress.

  My trusty old Webster's (man...I need to ask Santa for a new dictionary) says an offender is: something or someone that causes pain, discomfort, or hurt; something that outrages the senses, causing vexation, dislike, insult, or outrage.

  Yikes and Holey Moley! That describes my past behavior pretty well. I was always vexed, insulted, hurt, or outraged about something!

  Resentment, according to my tattered paperback, is to feel or exhibit annoyance or indignation. Mmm hmm--I used to be annoyed and indignant all the time too and I felt and exhibited it! Put those two together and you have a recipe for disaster--a souffle that's sure to fall flat; bread that won't rise, and lemonade with no sugar.

  Speaking from my own experience, I can tell you that resentments held me back early in my sobriety. I would take one step forward and two steps back because I couldn't or wouldn't let them go. I had fed on them for so long when I drank--gnawing and chewing, rolling them around, giving them life, that I didn't know how to NOT hang on to them. Page 66 was my saving grace, along with the statement with which I opened the Muse.

  If I were to have quality sobriety and drastically lower my risk of drinking again, I had to break that bad habit.

  Today I am grateful for page 66.

November 28, 2005


  "Silent night, holy night--all is calm, all is bright."

  I sang my first Christmas songs of the season today at the Hallmark assisted living facility church service. Those words made me weepy as I sang them, recalling nights past when nothing was silent and holy; I was far from calm, and my world was very dark and dreary.

  Today I walk in the Sunlight of the Spirit and I have peace and calm in my heart, mind, and soul. I have reverence for the silent, holy nights, for I no longer live in fear. In my disease, the nights were lonely and terrifying at times. The fear of death--of dying as a worthless, despicable drunk was overwhelming when my day came to an end. It manifested physically into tight balls of anxiety, cold sweats, and irregular heartbeat. I felt it late at night when I finally collapsed somewhere--the couch, bed, or floor, and all was quiet. The darkness enveloped me--smothered me. It was then that my mind was free to wreak havoc because there were no distractions. Everything was doom and gloom and I felt so miserably alone and lonely--so heavy-laden with fear, guilt, and shame. My self-loathing was amplified, my burdens suffocating. I shudder now just remembering those times.

  I am grateful today for the quiet in my head and heart when I go to bed. All is calm, all is bright.

November 29, 2005


  Sometimes I sit down here and pick up my Big Book, one of three that I own. My pocket version resides in my purse; my large print goes to my Book Study with me, and the standard size is at my computer desk. I just lift the book up and stop at the page it opens to. Tonight it was page 19 and this sentence was the first my eyes saw: "We feel that elimination of our drinking is but a beginning."

  Elimination: exclude, expel, leave out, ignore.
Beginning: to do the first part of any action; to undertake, or undergo initial steps ( isn't that one interesting?); to come into being--I really like that one.

  Have you, by any chance, noticed that I'm a fanatic about words and their definitions? You have? Gee--and I thought I hid it so well. Yes, I admit it--I'm downright anal about it. (anal--excessive fixation)

  OK--did I have a point? Yes---putting the proverbial "plug in the jug" was but a beginning for us. We eliminated, left behind, or expelled the alcohol from our lives and we commenced to undergo some initial Steps--the first part of our action. Then, and this is the cool part--we came into being. We came into being--I love the sound of that!

  Today I am grateful for my dictionary. ; - )

November 30, 2005


  Tomorrow is my Pop's birthday--he'll be 78. I've shared stuff about my mother and all the resentment I had for her growing up. That boulder on my shoulder wasn't rolled off until I had been sober over 2 years. I finally let all that resentment and anger for her go and in my heart, I have forgiven her. We have no relationship today; she has chosen to be estranged from me, but I have acceptance of that.

  My Pops, on the other hand, is a different story. He was my sliver of light when I was growing up--like a slender crescent moon; God's thumbnail moon. We had visitation with him every Sunday from the time I was 5 until I was 16 and could see him anytime I wanted because I had a driver's license.

  He instilled the love of music, reading, and writing in my heart and soul. He was as affectionate as my mother was distant and cold. I have always cherished that time with him and will always be grateful for it. Since I have come to AA, I realize the importance of physical love--no not sex...I mean the hugs and touching I share with the women in AA and the other people I love in my life.

  Human beings were not meant to be cold and uncaring--distant and detached. I was deprived of that by my mother, but thank God I had my Pops to hug and kiss me and say "I love you" every time we saw him and every time we spoke on the phone. The fellowship in AA is warm and compassionate that way--we treat each other with love and compassion. I am so blessed to have it in my life.

  I have the same relationship with my kids and to this day we still hug, kiss, and say "I love you" often. Today I am grateful for my Pops, because he taught me that.