Tuesday, December 27, 2011

Shining Examples

Imitation Is The Highest Form Of Flattery

Day 105

Hi gang!  I hope you had wonderful and peaceful holiday and if not, I hope this holiday will be starting point on the path to a place where  you will find peace.  It was another first for me, my first Christmas without alcohol, my first Christmas to be fully present to receive the presents the day would bring and to fully enjoy them.  I was blessed this Christmas, even if I was alone.  It was definitely peaceful and maybe that was what my sober soul needed.  It was also the first Christmas since my mother died that I haven’t cried.  I just now realized that.  Hmmm…I’ll have to ponder that and delve into its deeper meanings later because I already have this blog all planned out and for once I’m going to stick to my plan.

I am observing (as much as you can in the cyber world) one of my internet message board buddies going through that awkward time where you start to tell people that you are no longer drinking.  We’ve all gone through it, or we will go through it.  The making up of the excuses, “I’m on medication and I can’t drink with it (I can vouch for this one), or the disguise drinks like my sparkling cider (Hey, I like holding pretty stemware and I really like this stuf.f).  Why do we do it?  Why are we embarrassed to admit that we have a problem?  I guess maybe it’s part of the process, once we start telling other people, it’s no longer our own little secret.  We become accountable and people are watching us. It takes a lot of courage to put our naked shaky souls up on that rickety stage while people watch with gleeful anticipation for our downfall.  But not all of them are betting against us, some are sitting quietly watching, with their fingers crossed and their breaths caught in their throats.  They don’t see in us a tale of tragedy or shame instead they see in us a tribute of courage and strength.  And they wish they had the courage to climb up on that stage.  And they hope against all hope that we will make it because then maybe they will too.

My brother, Pat, climbed up on that stage almost 30 years ago.  I am so thankful that he did.  I don’t think he had anybody from our family to show him the way, I’m glad I had him.  I’ve been watching him for years, too afraid to climb up there with him and too stubborn, ashamed, stupid,(take your pick) …to ask for a hand up.  He did not know I was on this journey.  I wrote him yesterday to let him know. I had wanted to wait until I had a year, I guess so I could say, “Look at me, I did it all by myself, even though I know I didn’t.”  But yesterday my Co-writer gave me one of those nudges and said, “Write him.”  Of course, I argued, “It’s 103 Days, that’s not a significant number.” He just nudged me again and just like when I don’t want to write this blog, he tells me that I might have something to say that somebody needs to hear that day.”  Or maybe he thinks I need my big brother along for the rest of this ride.   So I emailed my brother and thanked him for leading the way.   He called me this morning but I missed his call, I think I heard tears in his voice.

So today I’m just out there doing my best to give well deserved applause to all of those shining examples that don’t know that we are watching them.  Now it’s our turn to take the stage.


  1. Call him back, I bet you help him more than he helps you.

  2. I love this post, Kary. Call your brother...you know if the roles were reversed you would really want to talk to him.

    I love being able to follow you on this journey. You're the bomb dot com!!

    PS--I think this is going to work out better for you than it did with me and my SIL who's in recovery. Remember, she congratulated me on my one-year, but then told me that of course I wasn't a "real" alcoholic since I quit without rehab and/or going to AA meetings every day. Sheesh. So crazy--like being an alcoholic is some awesome club and I'm so big poser trying to get granted a membership. Ha!!!

  3. Thanks for this blog. It has helped me with my own journey to sobriety.