On August 19 2005 (two years from the day my cowboy left for the last time) I went over the handlebars of my bike on my way to work. I broke one or more ribs and was sidelined from all of my physical activity. It was rough. I was in a lot of pain. Once the pain subsided I thought I could run again, but it only made the pain come back. So I sat quietly and tried to learn whatever lessons God had in store for me.
I had started a blog the year before to talk about triathlon training. I found that boring, so I started another one about politics. I love politics and I used to spend a lot of time keeping track of what was going on. I had endless opinions about most everything and I thought it would be fun to express them. It was the time of Katrina and my son had gone with the National Guard to help. I wrote about the frustration of knowing that the people he went to help were shooting at helicopters - like the one he was in. And some jackass came along and started arguing with just about everything I said. I had NO readership whatsoever, except for this guy. I went to HIS blog with the intent to retaliate and found that he was an AA member. Well, I wasn't going to put my AA life on my blog with my real name and political junk on it, so I started a whole different account just to be anonymous and talk to this guy. Once we were AA members talking to each other, all the differences were overlooked... we were just fellow travelers on this road.
Soon he stopped blogging and I was blogging maybe once a week. Then in November of 2005, a wonderful blogger who has since stopped blogging discovered my blog and let her blogger buddies know and before long I had readers! It was the most exciting thing! I had a broken rib, I was not able to do most of the things that usually took a lot of my time, so I sat and wrote posts and visited others blogs for a great amount of time each day. I was in love with blogging and the bloggers. It was such a wonderful thing.
In the spring that year, I took a class in Icon Writing. I spent a week in silent meditative painting of St. Michael the Archangel. The instructor was a Russian Iconographer. It was incredibly wonderful. It was the same week my son was leaving for his training before he went to Iraq. That was a difficult time for me, so to be spending a week meditating on this Saint, the Patron Saint of Soldiers - was incredible. It helped me tremendously. (I just found out this morning that I am going to be able to take another class in August - I cannot wait!)
I was able to go back to my old morning meeting some time in this year. I was so glad to be back there. That was a meaningful piece of healing in my life.
I will probably later remember other things that happened that year, but I find my entry for my 22nd birthday so nice, I am going to post a lot of it here. One of the members of my morning group died in July and his funeral happened to be on my 22nd AA birthday. It might have been one of the better birthdays I have ever had.
"On my actual birthday, I went to ___'s funeral. There was some kind of symmetry in that, not that I seem to be able to articulate it. I sat in the back of the church between J. and A. and felt so at home. Where I belong. Not necessarily at a funeral, but with my people. These are truly my people. I don't like them all, but I do love them - every single one. They don't all love me, but we share our lives, our solutions, and our problems. And because of that, we are not the ones who are being cremated and buried. To see F. in a suit just about broke my heart. He looked wonderful, let me hasten to add, not like so many drunks who buy a cheap suit and look like it. But F. belongs in a tee shirt, shorts, and hiking boots - not a suit. God Bless him.
In February, E. suicided. God Bless E. May he rest in eternal peace. I miss him.
In February, M (my sponsor) and T. moved to the western slope. God, there is a hole blowing right through me on that one.
K. (my son) leaves today on a ship for Kuwait, then to Iraq. Thank God for the program of AA, most of the time I am not overly mental about this. Trying to stay in the moment, etc. God Bless my son. I am so proud of him. He is a good man. Please hold him in the palm of your hand dear Lord.
Thank you for this 22 years and may I have another day."
I also wrote my blog that day, and if you are just insatiable for all the details of my 22nd birthday, you may check it out here... it is interesting all the wonderful comments and how many of those people are not around anymore.... just like my real meetings.