My daughter and I got up early because she had to be at a church by 6:30 to take a bus ride they provided to a prison in southern Colorado. The church was in a seedy area of town. The church's parking lot was in such bad repair that I deeply regretted driving into it and doubted that I could get out without tearing up my car, but I did get out without any damage. I asked my daughter if she was afraid that this bus was from a cult and they were going to take her to a "compound" somewhere. She told me "no, they should be afraid of me." Well, when I thought of that, I had to realize, as I usually do when I start worrying about her, that she is the most skilled survivalist I have ever known. And she almost always lands on her feet. With everyone around her working their hardest so that she will be OK. Thank God I am so alcoholic myself that I never ever got sucked into her gravitational pull. There is never a lack for people who are circling around her.
We walked into a restaurant on Friday night. She and I. I love being with her. She is one of my favorite people on earth. The young waiter was practically drooling over her. He suggested a beer, I suggested to him that he did not want to see her with one drop of alcohol in her. He suggested that I should have a beer, my daughter told him that he did not want to see me with any alcohol in me... and then she told him that "we are from Drunkylvania." I laughed, he laughed, other staff in the restaurant laughed. And they never suggested again that we have a beer.
Yesterday afternoon, my other daughter and I went shopping at all the tony shops in a mall. Well, it may be one week before the Christmas rush begins, but I tell you, I am doing all the rest of my shopping online. I hate malls. I once went 5 years without stepping foot in one. I think I shall at least endeavor to go until January without hitting one. It was horrifying. My daughter commented that the economy must not be THAT bad if all these people are out shopping. We were both able to find a couple of things - at steep discounts - and that is always good. She is always amazed that no matter where we go, we run into someone who knows me. Sure enough, in one of the stores, a couple of AA'ers shouted out "There's Mary!" and I chatted with them. I could not remember their names in time to introduce them to my daughter, but she didn't care. She dislikes socializing as much as her twin sister enjoys it.
I went to confession in the late afternoon. I always like to start out a new liturgical year with a clean slate and hope not to foul it up too quickly. If my daughter had been with me, she would have been amazed to see my friend Barb run up and hug me, she was standing talking with the priest. I had to tear him away long enough for my pitiful confession... and then we all stood around and chatted.
Later I went to Mass and cried when I added my friend Russ' name to the list of the dead I pray for at Mass every week. So sad, but once again, I must turn my thoughts to living. I saw my friend Jerry there at Mass, but he scooted out after communion so I didn't get to say hello.
And now, here I sit, on a Sunday morning. I have an eight mile run scheduled. I am procrastinating. The longer I wait, the warmer it will be when I head out. I have a challenging route chosen. The first three miles are uphill, then undulating hills for two miles, and the last three are mostly downhill. It is a glorious, sun-drenched Colorado morning. It will be nice - once I get out there.
My son is coming over later for Sunday lunch/dinner. I call it dinner. But it is at lunch time. I would never call lunch on Tuesday "dinner," but for some reason, the mid-day meal on Sunday to me is "dinner." My granddaughters both scream "dinner????" when I say that on Sundays. Well, they will get used to it someday. I will probably be able to finish that sock today. It is so cute that several people want it, including my favorite doctor at work - who is a heterosexual male. Who knows?
Sorry to have written a book here. It is a combination of just procrastinating while I drink my coffee, and just writing some life-affirming stuff. I am grateful to be alive. I am grateful to be sober. I am grateful to be a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous. I am grateful that I got to go to a meeting yesterday that was small enough that I talked honestly about this death and how it shook me up and made me profoundly sad. And the others in the room respected that and didn't need to argue with me or spout any slogans at me.
And you beautiful bloggers, thank you. You amaze me constantly. Thank you.