Happy Easter: Sobriety Is...

 What has occurred instead has been a 'resurrection", 

the rebirth of the person we were supposed to be

had we never taken up drinking.

By some mysterious workings of God's will,

we have become "wiser" through the experience of alcoholism 

and the subsequent recovery process.

Although we have finally become that person God created us to be,

through the experience of our alcoholism we are far more appreciative

of the "normal" life we now lead, 

And are perhaps far more attuned to the sufferings and faults of other people.

~ Paul Sofranko--The Recovery Rosary:

I was sitting on my step this morning thinking, "Ugh...I need to write a blog this morning."  Not a very uplifting thought to have on a Easter morning, especially when I was feeling devoutly grateful for my faith and its celebration of the resurrection of Christ and for the never ending resurrection of my own my life.  Searching for some inspiration, I clicked on Belle's blog this morning, Today is Easter, and whether you celebrate it or not, it's a great time for resurrecting, right? and one of her penpals, Carrie, had written a beautiful description of what sobriety is like for her and Belle followed it with her own.  I'm not stealing your idea, Carrie and Belle, I'm promoting it, and as they say, "Imitation is the highest form of flattery."  I hope all of us bloggers and readers follow form because I can't wait to hear what sobriety is like for all of you.

Here's mine.

Sobriety is like...
The smell of woodsmoke coming from our cabin's chimney on a snowy morning as I head out for the Sunday paper and fresh baked croissants. A little while later, it's a perfectly brewed cup of tea as I lay on the couch under my favorite afghan, with Mr. Stan (the blind killer bichon) curled up next to me and the paper spread all around me.

A jar of lilacs on a window sill while there is still snow on the ground outside.

Tears running down my face and snot clogging my nose as I watch Steel Magnolias for the millionth time, an elbow nudges me and my best friend hands me a tissue without looking at me because she has tears and snot running down her face too. 

The smell of Coppertone and chlorine and hamburgers grilling on a summer afternoon.

Shooting stars falling from the sky and twinkling down through the pines at 3:00 am and I am the only one crazy enough to climb out of a warm bed to watch the show.

Flannel sheets, a pile of quilts, socks on my feet and the first frost etched on my window pane.

(I think I must be missing Colorado.  I'm heading home this Wednesday and next Sunday I'll be curled up on my couch with my Sunday paper and a cup of tea. I hope there's snow.)