In The Beginning….

 Do you ever wonder, how “it” began ?  For me it was always about the magic of alcohol….Still, I wonder, how did it begin for you ? The gift I have received from Alcoholics Anonymous has been the gift of caring…. I don’t think I ever did that until 1985.

When I was very small I lived with my grandparents, my Grandfather was a kind man, who drank, always..I heard later my Grandmother was also an alcoholic, I don’t remember ever seeing her drink.  I know she was in an asylum when my Father was young, and later, seemed to live to berate my Grandfather for his love affair with Four Roses.  I have talked with many over the years about the ” when” of becoming aware of alcohol.  It seems to me I was always aware, and very drawn, perhaps not to the drink, but to what I perceived it could do for one. My Grandfather would let me soak the labels off his ” dead soldiers” and I would paste them onto cardboard for bookmarks for my Kindergarten Bible Study.  Needless to say, my teachers and Grandmother were not amused. I truly thought they were lovely, and represented the happiness of a man I loved very much.

I lived with them until I was seven, it wasn’t idyllic, but is was safe and consistent. Grandpa would swing me around until the world spun, and he took me for rides in his Packard.  We went often to a place called Pete’s, and then we would go for a ride in the woods and sit under a tree talking about the Great Spirit.  My Grandfather believed the Great Spirit had forgiveness for his weakest children. He explained to me that he was a sinner, who could not give up the liquor, and cautioned me to never take a drink.

My Grandmother used hot toddies and Vick’s Vapor Rub to cure anything short of Malaria.  By age 4 I was a sinner.  I cannot recall a time I didn’t think about alcohol if it was near by.  What I had learned was, alcohol made you feel better…….in every imaginable way; but it was not something one talked about. I hated that I had to wait until I became a Grandparent to partake of the elixir, and prayed for a cold.  I know today, that’s a little different…

When I was seven my Mother married again, and I went to live with her and her new husband.  I remember my Mom in a black taffeta sundress with daisies on the bodice, the tilt of her head and the laughter…..Poppa was a bear of a man  who had grown up in orphanages, and lived in prisons, he was incredibly handsome.  I finally had parents like my friends, it was an exciting time for me.  Then Poppa started to drink, I worried.. I had heard if he drank he would go back to prison.  I was coming to learn the consequences of drinking were steep. I was learning even more so that one didn’t discuss it.  At the parties there were slo gin fizzes and giggles, everybody danced, I hung close to the table.  Almost always somebody would offer me a sip, I felt very special when they did that.

Later when I was 12 or 13 and living on the streets and hopping the freight trains between Indianapolis and Louisville, the wino/hobo folk would share with me. Our book talks about conviviality, that is what liquor meant to me. It was sharing and caring and laughter..I had found my place in life.

I know by many folks standards my life was harsh, I didn’t see it that way, I always saw it, as me and my very brave Mom, against the world..Poppa,.. well he was Poppa, and his story was tragic.I used to say, when he wasn’t crazy or drunk, he was the best Father a girl could want.  I know I don’t have to explain that to another alcoholic..

It was natural that I would grow and marry an alcoholic, water seeks it’s own level. When he died I thought ” no more drunkards” just to heartbreaking… so I married a very nice pothead.  He was a decent man, and we used to sit on my front porch and swap lies. We agreed that our relationship was so wonderful we would never mar it with alcohol and drugs, just go to Church and the PTA. Six months into that marriage, I was slipping down to the family room for a little sip of Brandy, and caught him smoking a joint in the downstairs bath. We didn’t know that we couldn’t stop.  My behavior during that time still makes me cringe.  It’s senseless for an alcoholic woman to try to control her behavior while drinking. he was a kind man, I did the only decent thing left for me to do, and divorced him.  As we sat in that court room holding hands and crying, I remember thinking ” what happened?” I had a home, husband, children, good job.. what was so wrong with me ?

The good thing that came out of that divorce was I turned myself into AA. I didn’t stay sober in 1976, but the seed was planted. That man and I remained close friends until his death 10 years later, as a result of the AA way of life I was able to help his new wife care for him in the final stages of his cancer.  God has blessed me with another chance at happiness, at 10 years into that marriage I remembered the love and laughter of Alcoholics Anonymous. I went back and the open arms of AA drew me in.  Early sobriety was rough, I brought me into that marriage, and when you get married in a blackout….You know the drill.. this November we celebrate 38 years of marriage, I have now been sober longer than I drank.

If you are a loner, feeling like this can never be your story…. please know it can.  If I have one message, it is the miracle Alcoholics Anonymous has worked in my life.

Blessings