Sunday, February 26, 2012
We have common friends in my home group. I love to go there and she has expressed her desire to go with me. She was familiar with the group long before getting sober - she would come there once a year or so for my birthdays or other special events. She has known many of the people in that room since she was a child. She finds that comforting and I can't begin to tell you how comforting it is to me.
Did I ever tell you all about the time I saw my friend R. there and he looked at me really funny? He asked me how I was. I said "good!" He asked me how my daughter was, and then it was my turn to look at HIM funny.... I said "why?" He said "oh, nothing." Well, you know, I couldn't let that rest. So I bugged him until he told me.
When my kids were growing up in a strange fractured family, they learned to call me their mother. Their father and step-mother were called their "parents." So, my friend R. heard my daughter say "my parents hate me." And he thought she meant me!
I laughed and told him the deal.
And then I called her and asked her to please think about using the term "parents" around my friends, because they could reasonably expect that she is referring to me!
OK, gotta go. Loving Sunday Morning. Loving the flowers on my table from the man. Loving the left over steak in the fridge that I shall enjoy later today. Loving that my daughter wants to go to my home group with me.
Thank you God!