The weekend with my sponsor was great. I have a small feeling of desolation now that they are gone.
She used to live a mile away. Now she lives a very large state away.
She used to have bright red hair. Now it is grey.
We used to laugh a bit more freely. And have a bit less to mourn.
Getting older is not really that easy of a thing to do. I am not really complaining. I am just a bit sad tonight. For how things change. For all the losses over the years. All the people we still miss.
She was recalling the nutty girl who couldn't sit still who lived in North Denver. She said she can't even believe I am the same woman as she. I can't either.
Last night we went to visit her God daughter. I last saw this child when she was about 3 or 4 years old. Last night was the eve of her confirmation. That makes her sixteen years old. She is beautiful. She is the daughter of an AA member I have known forever. Last night he was sitting in a chair, post hip-replacement, mourning the recent death of his sponsor.
Oh, I am morbid. Maybe too tired.
Here's what's good:
- I am sober and alive - alive to get old enough to see myself and others get old.
- I have had the same sponsor for fifteen years - we have a lot of history - and a lot of love.
- She may live far away, but she is always close to me, and always a phone call away.
- I have had a sober life for this last quarter of a century - and have so many memories of wonderful people I have met in this fellowship -whether they stayed sober or not - whether they are alive or not - whether they are around or not - they are still a part of my life.
- It is dusk and I can go to bed.
- The birds are singing - the trees have leaves on them - the windows are open - and I think spring has finally arrived.
And in the immortal words of Orphan Annie - "The Sun will come out Tomorrow"