Christmas is a Great Time to be Sober

I was torn between two subjects tonight and repetition won out. But for good reason.

Today was our annual early release from work before the big day. I’m still being more manic than I would like, running around getting one more gift, one more gift bag, one more picture frame and so on. I spent hours at it today, even after I promised myself I wouldn’t. But I noticed something different.

I wasn’t scrambling around, just taking my time looking and thinking about the last few items I think I need. One elusive item will have to be unearthed tomorrow. Finally, I made it home and, at the urging of my sponsor, went to an AA meeting. On the way to the meeting I wondered why I still had energy and my heart wasn’t beating a million times a minute like it usually is in the days before Christmas as I wrap things up. Sorry. 

I’m not hungover.

That deserves to be its own paragraph. It deserves to stand on its own, surrounded by white space, and be seen. I am so grateful that I haven’t even had the urge today for a holiday toddy or seven. I’m thankful to be clear headed and that I’m not dropping things out of my shaking hands and crying because I’m overwhelmed and overtired.

The meeting was good with a lot of warmth all around. I’m finding that recovering alcoholics are a compassionate and, generally, nice group of people. They want the next person to feel good. That’s important to them. Where else can you go and find that? I tried one church. It wasn’t there. That’s not to say it isn’t at another one but, at the one I attended, the very people who would smile sweetly and shake your hand on Sunday wouldn’t recognize you at the grocery store on Monday. Their demands for time and money were endless.

There is a very large guy at these AA meetings lately. When he stands the chair flies back, proving some natural law or another and his pants also leave their natural resting place, revealing a “plumber’s crack” that is not to be believed. This guy is a bit slow in his speech and his movements–maybe from birth, an accident, or a shortage of brain cells from his days of imbibing. But he has the sweetest soul, gentlest nature, and he genuinely wants to be sober.

I keep waiting for the burly, crusty AA old timers in the room to be impatient with him like many people in another setting might be. I almost cringe sometimes in anticipation of someone snapping at him. It never happens. They grin and good naturedly tell him to pull his pants up. They praise him after he hands out the chips which commemorate individual sobriety. Their kind eyes, twinkling mirthfully at this character, see him as a brother. Just another person who deserves to be happy, joyous, and free.

If someone had told me, last Christmas, that I wouldn’t have a drink this Christmas, I would have asked, “What will be my cause of death?” That would’ve been the only explanation for such an outlandish prediction. An awful lot has happened this year. And I do mean awful. I don’t know when, or if, I’ll ever spend another Christmas with my son who’s been in jail since May. He won’t be released for years.

I’ve written about all of this before but I think sobriety warrants repetition and when I think of all the repeated complaining I’ve done, rehashing gratitude doesn’t seem like a bad thing. 

My real wish is that someone who’s searching will get the amazing things I’ve gotten in the last part of this year. It’s ending so much better than it started. In AA they always say something about staying until the miracle happens. It’s said with such conviction and promise that it’s hard to resist returning, just in case. Funny thing is the miracles happen over and over in those rooms. And the big guy whose genuine spirit gave me such a lift on this evening, so close to Christmas, that I had to come home and write about him…his name is Nick. Need I say more?