What I Listen For in an Alcoholic's Story

I went to a meeting this afternoon and heard a young man tell his story for the first time. He had 18 months of clean and sober time and he told us that he normally never ever talks in meetings. That got my attention, because I haven't stopped talking since I got to AA over 6 years ago. Anyway, this guy was quite nervous and lost track of the time. He apparently made up for the 18 months of not talking all at once.

He took us down a long walk along memory lane in terms of his truly horrible and abused childhood and equally horrible abusing adulthood. And only after 30 minutes (it was an hour meeting and normally, people keep their chairs to 10-15 minutes...unless you're really good at storytelling, like me!) did he get to the part of his story that I was most interested in: how did he get sober?

Don't get me wrong, I don't mind drunk-a-logs at all. They help me know the person and their disease better and put their sobriety in context, as it were. But I was afraid though that this guy wasn't going to get to the sober part until after the meeting was over, so I was glad when he did reach his bottom and found his way out of hell with 15 minutes to spare! (That was only because the secretary was kind enough to slip him a note reminding him that he needed to bring things to a close... She did that very well --- it's something that can be done very badly and she handled it perfectly!)

His way into that hell was very very different than mine, but his way out was almost mirror image of my own: someone with our problem reached out to him and said that they had found a solution to their drinking/using problem and offered to help him go down that path. For this man, that involved having his friend help him get a place to sleep (he was, like me at the end, very very tired!!!) in some sort of treatment facility for the homeless. For me, it meant watching my son get sober and then reaching the point where I wanted what he had found and knew that involved doing what he had done.

I didn't get to share at this afternoon's meeting because there was no time left and others were quicker to raise their hands. I did want to tell this guy that he did a great job and that I learned something valuable from his chair. I was ready to defend him if anyone had the gall to attack him for not even identifying as an alcoholic (he identified as an addict only...) or for talking too long. Had they done the latter, I would have reminded folks that Bill Wilson's story was only 16 pages long and he didn't get sober until page 13. But no one attacked him, at least, they didn't do it out loud or during the meeting. Those that talked had identified with his story and were appreciative and kind.

Me? I heard all I needed to hear from his story, he drank and used until he couldn't stop, no matter how much he tried. And just when he hit the bottom of despair, there was someone there who reached out a hand, not with judgment or condemnation, but with an offer to help and with a solution that had worked for them. I left the meeting after thanking him for his share and came back home to resume my "honey dos" with a little more gratitude for the way things have worked out for me in my life.

Take care!

Mike L.

The "One Day At a Time" is Always Today

During the month of June at the Concord Fellowship, whenever the secretary would ask if anyone was celebrating a AA birthday during the month of June, many of us spent most of the month egging on one of our old timers to raise his hand because in June he was going to be celebrating his 29th year of sobriety. Bob always shook his head No though, because he didn't believe in celebrating his birthday until it happened. Until the end of June, his birthday was only a possibility. He'd gotten into a good "one day at a time" habit and he was going to stick with it since it had worked "well over" 28 years.

This last Sunday night I got a call from an AA friend and he told me that Bob (Robert Adams) had been killed that morning when a car ran a red light in Concord, CA and hit Bob as he was crossing the intersection on his motorcycle. I believe this was the day, June 29th, Bob finally raised his hand to let us celebrate his miraculous feat of 29 year's worth of "one day at a time" sobriety. I'm just now getting over the shock of Bob's death. There are a couple of people around here who I know are in the last stages of the dying process and I while I'll be sad on their passing, I won't be shocked. Bob's death shocked me. My initial reaction was that this death was wrong. Untimely. Unfair.

I wanted to blame someOne, but there's no one for me to blame. I've positioned myself so that theologically and philosophically, there's really no one to blame, certainly not God. I espouse a belief system in which God, if God exists, does not "do" anything. In my view, God's been resting since he got Creation going. If I'm not mistaken, this view is shared by one of the writers of Genesis. For me, God's not a puppeteer up in the sky who pulls strings to make "good" things happen or to prevent "bad" things from happening. Therefore, God doesn't cause a man to run a red light and kill another man....and I feel no inclination to try and conjure up some divinely justified rationale for God's making this death happen. I simply don't believe God had anything to do with what happened Sunday morning, other than simply and lovingly "being there."

But Sunday night, I wanted to take a short vacation from my theological belief system. Just one drink of blame and anger toward a higher power or anyone else. Just one drink... Blame toward the driver of the car: was this guy drunk at 9:30am on a Sunday morning? Not out of the realm of possibility for an alcoholic, to be sure. And if he was drunk, was this some sort of cosmic humor where a drunk drunk kills a sober drunk of 29 years? Or was this guy just driving his car and distracted by some out of control event in his life, such that he just didn't notice that the light had turned red? In neither case, could I work up satisfactory anger because I found myself identifying myself as the perpetrator in either scenario: it could have been me, drunk or just simply distracted. Now, there's a part of me who wants to comfort the guy who killed my friend Bob. I hope our paths cross some day.

Then I turned my anger toward Bob: damn him for riding that goddamned motorcycle! They're unsafe and provide you with no protection from the "givens" of driving on our streets and highways. What was he doing there at that time of day anyway! Turns out, that Bob had done that morning what he almost always did every morning: he went to his 6:30am meeting at the Concord Fellowship, where he probably came in just a little late, where he probably sat down and joked with those around him (while seeming to rudely ignore the secretary's introduction to the meeting...OK, a little resentment there from a Concord Fellowship secretary!) and most likely not raise his hand to share. I assume that he raised his hand when they asked if anyone was celebrating a AA birthday. Finally!

After the meeting, I hear that he then joined a impromptu group of AA friends at the local Denny's and had a "meeting after the meeting." I know there much have been much laughter and probably some serious talk about something important to someone. Bob then left Denny's not to go home to his wife, but to head to another meeting nearby where a guy he knew, and I think who Bob sponsored at some time, was going to be the speaker. This guy, Lance, had been around AA for many years but has had a hard time staying continuously sober until recently. Lance now has over three years sober (I think) and Bob wanted to be supportive of Lance that morning because Bob did things just like this all the time. That was why Bob was crossing that intersection Willow Pass and Gateway Blvd. at 9:30am Sunday morning.

So I can't even get mad at Bob for being there that morning. Even his riding the motorcycle was Bob's way of being able to do all that he did on a limited retiree's budget, a retiree who, by the way, never seemed to completely stop working some jobs to make end's meet for his family. I believe that Bob was a penny pincher because he wanted to squeeze the life out each day. He and his wife had just taken a vacation trip together with this penny pinched money. With this money that he'd saved by driving that goddamned gas efficient motorcycle.

Bob was a great man. An honorable man. One of the ever growing list of honorable people I've come to know and love since getting sober. These honorable people attempted to live each day of their life as fully as humanly possible. They seemed to take nothing for granted and gave away everything of real value to any suffering alcoholic who crossed their path. Many saw Bob as someone who laughed a lot, but also someone who sometimes got very angry at things. Bob would sometimes be in a meeting at the Concord Fellowship, which I oftentimes refer to as the "Wild West of AA" due to it's unseemly and wild environment and interchanges, and if he thought the members had crossed some "line" in terms of behaving or not behaving in such a manner that would be helpful to a suffering alcoholic, Bob would raise his hand and not even wait to be called on: he was just take us all to task for our failure to carry the message of AA to a suffering alcoholic.

That was a line not to be crossed when Bob was present and, by God, he was here to let us know that we'd crossed it. Failure to carry the AA message was not to be tolerated! Now, personally, I thought Bob was usually about two or three weeks late in noticing that we'd crossed that imaginary line, but he always seemed to identify the most effective moment to raise our consciousness. I always loved to watch him explode, even when it was directed toward me, with love for AA and the suffering alcoholic. I think that's because it was Bob being most passionate and on fire with love.

I was telling my wife about Bob Sunday night, sharing a little bit about what I knew and was going to miss about this man who falls into her category of one of those "strangers I hang out with" in AA.

One thing that I knew Bob struggled with all of the time I knew him was the issue of death. Bob grew up in a world and culture where God was all powerful and whatever happened in life was "God's will." Some years ago, Bob's son and daughter-in-law were having a baby and the baby died at or just before birth. I don't know the details of the death, but I do know that this event devastated Bob for a long long time. Probably until last Sunday morning. He just couldn't reconcile his belief that God was love with the fact that God was ultimately in control of all things and if God was in control of all things, then how could he allow this innocent baby to die before ever having a chance to live or to be loved, especially by Bob. This death tore Bob apart. We talked about it several times, and no matter how much I tried to offer Bob an alternative view of God, he had a hard time letting go of the God of his fathers and forefathers. Not long ago, Bob's son and daughter-in-law were having another baby and the possibility of another death was utmost on Bob's mind. I don't think he could have survived another innocent death. Luckily, that wasn't what happened and Bob was able to hold and love his grandbaby.

I told my wife that I'm not at all sure Bob reconciled with God before his death on Sunday, but my hope was that maybe Bob would now finally be able to vent all his anger and resentment out directly to God and could come to peace with this everpresent death issue. My wife, you got to love her, replied back to me that maybe Bob would be better served by taking this opportunity to hold and to love his first grandchild for the first time....and to let his anger toward God die a timely death. My wife is an amazing woman who simply doesn't give an alcoholic, sober or drunk, a break! And that's without Alanon!

I'm missing Bob a lot right now. I didn't go to the 6:30am Concord Fellowship meeting this morning because I thought I'd rather blog this stuff out while it was still fresh. And I wanted this time alone with my memories of Bob and my grief over his death. While he may be dead and gone, I still have the ability to sense him in my heart and in my mind. Bob's going to be in some wonderful stories of mine that I'll use to help other suffering alcoholics! That's how I handled Dr. Earle's death five and a half years ago. It worked then, it will most likely work now. Today. One day at a time. Today.

Take care!

Mike L.