Two 12 Step Calls: Two Ends of the Spectrum

In the last couple of days, I had the opportunity to help two suffering alcoholics: one who was trying to get sober and the other trying to die sober. When Bill writes in the 12x12 about the 12th Step, he states in the first paragraph that the "theme of the 12th step is the joy of living". And then in the last paragraph of that chapter, he states that "the joy of good living is theme of the 12th step." (emphasis added.) I have always been struck how most people, when asked to talk about the 12th step, normally talk about what they've done or are doing to carry the AA message to suffering alcoholics. Few seem to talk about this "joy of living" --- and I've never heard anyone talk about the "joy of good living". But after these two recent 12 step encounters, I want to talk about the joy of good living that I am experiencing. I'm not sure what color this cloud is, but it's wonder-full.

As I mentioned in a recent blog, I ran into a friend this last Saturday who's been coming to AA for about 4 1/2 years but not able to get more than 10 months continuous sobriety during that period of time. When he sat next to me at the meeting Saturday, he told me right away that he'd had another relapse and consistent with all his relapses in the last 4 1/2 years, he ended up in the Emergency Room. After that meeting, he and I kept running into each other at different places in town: the car wash and later at a oil change station. I was trying to be as helpful to him as I could, but wasn't never quite sure what the right words were to help him. He already had a sponsor (one that he's had for the last 4 1/2 years and one that is pretty well respected in the AA community) and I was hesitant to do or say anything that would get inbetween the two of them or to give him the impression that I was wanting to be his sponsor. It was quite perplexing for me because inside, my judgment was telling me that (1) his relationship with his current sponsor didn't appear to be working and (2) that I really did believe that I'd be a good and helpful sponsor for him. He trusted me from almost our first meeting about 4 years ago.

Anyway, I got a call from him Tuesday night and he told me that he was in trouble and needed help. He "confessed" that he'd been lying to me as to his current sobriety date and that he'd continued to drink since being released from the hospital about 10 days ago. But the immediate trouble he was worried about was that his wife was coming over to see him that evening and he had the uneasy feeling that she was bringing bad news. He asked me to come over and be there for support. He understood perfectly why she would and should give up on him --- but he wasn't sure he could survive the blow, with or without alcohol. He'd already asked his wife if she would mind my being there --- she welcomed my attendance as she'd heard about me from her husband over the last couple of years. She apparently didn't get along well with her husband's current sponsor and thought I might be helpful.

I don't want to go into the detail here, but suffice it to say I talked a lot, mostly to him but also to his wife --- he listened, she kept nodding her head in agreement. And then I saw a mental shift happen: there was a moment where the who tone and direction of the evening shifted away from him "trying to stop drinking...again" toward a willingness to "stop stopping" and then to trying "to stay sober". When that happened, I told him what I saw and he agreed. We made a plan for staying sober the rest of that evening and the following morning. Today he's well into his second day of sobriety.

The following day, I drove to Sacramento where I work and then went to a noon meeting. At the meeting, I realized that it was July and that an old timer that I'd come to know up there was soon going to be celebrating 45 years sober. Fred is a cantankerous old fart who got sober on July 5, 1964. I'd call him an ex-Marine only to see him go into attack mode. He'd moved to Sacramento about 4 years ago -- and he was mad as hell that his wife (10 years less sober than he) made him leave San Antonio so that she could be closer to her children. Hell, we didn't do AA right!

I quickly befriended him. This was shortly after Dr. Earle's death and somehow being helpful to this 91 year old man was therapeutic for me, I think even more therapeutic than it was for him. It was probably a toss up. We became close. He jokingly referred to me and another relative newcomer, Eric (note: Fred thought anyone with less than 20 years sobriety was a newcomer...) as his "sponsors" because we were always correcting him (my god, he could never get his number of years sober right! I was always having to correct him, No, Fred, you don't have 42 years yet....you have 41. That would piss him off and he'd reach in his pocket for his chip and shove it toward me arguing that he really was 42 years. But the chip was on my side. It became a running joke in the meetings and I slowly fell in love with him in a way similar to the way I'd fallen, albeit more instantaneous, in love with Earle.

About a year and a half ago, Fred's wife had to place Fred in a skilled nursing facility which specializes in patients with Alzheimer's....which was Fred had. That was why he was forgetting his sobriety date. I hadn't seen Fred since and felt tremendous guilt over that. I talked to Eric and we decided to make a road trip down to see Fred. We would take him a 45 year chip and hope that he remembered that he was still an alcoholic and, with some minimal hope that he would remember either of us.

Well, we walked into his room and he was sitting on his bed waiting to see who his visitors were... They had prepared him for us coming, but they didn't know anything about us other than we were friends of Fred. Well, he looked up at us standing at the door and his face lit up like a Christmas tree!! Oh my God, I thought you two were dead! Truth be told, at that point, I wasn't sure if he really recognized us or not: maybe we were Marine buddies of his for all I knew. But it became clear in moments that he did know who we were and that we'd lifted him out of some darkness and loneliness. We gave him his birthday card with the chip and he felt it and looked at us and said, what's inside the card? Condoms? I told him that there had been but they removed them at the security gate because they were embarrassingly too small.

When he saw the chip, he almost betrayed the Marine Corps and cried like a baby. And so did I. We reminisced for awhile. He mentioned his favorite prayers, The Lord's Prayer and the 23rd Psalm. I asked if he remembered the meeting where I told people about his love for the 23rd Psalm and that he and I then began reciting the 23rd Psalm together for the whole group. Well, he remembered and then he and I began reciting it again sitting there in his room on Thursday. So much for memory loss.

I've been walking around on a cloud, not sure what color and don't care, for the last couple of days. I think I've discovered the path to a life of Joy. A joyful path to a life of good living. It's being true to one's self and helping others. Especially other suffering alcoholics.

Take care!

Mike