With Susan, Dee and Kim
I’ll admit yesterday was a bit of an anticlimax. I felt genuinely weird all day – a feeling I couldn’t pinpoint or shake until it hit me that – everything has changed and nothing has changed. I’m sounding a bit like Yoda again, but as Dee put it, “Whatever it is you’re feeling, it’s not a coincidence. It has to do with your one year sober anniversary…”
I was grumpy with Fiona. She started my day by waking up at the end of the bed, stretching and vomiting onto the duvet.
I had breakfast with Joel – an old pilot friend of mine. He is the guy who flew me to some of my best and worse times on Staniel Cay. He flew me home one time with no front teeth, two black eyes and a hematoma the size of a Ping-Pong ball on my forehead (a run-in with a bathroom sink – don’t ask). It was someone else’s full King Air, and I had to sit on the jump seat that doubles as a toilet. I had bangs then and Willy Wonka, huge round shades so no one knew how bad it was, or that I really should have gone to the hospital when I landed.
I didn’t go to AA to collect my chip. I’m not sure why.
The rest of the day I tried to pretend I was happy. I got some work done, made appointments and canceled appointments, answered well-wishes and emails from those congratulating me on a red letter year and in spite of myself – I wallowed in REGRET…
Lauren was having a party for me, so I got ready and went. My best buddies and greatest supporters were there, her apartment was glowing with candle light and furniture polish. The table was laid with beautiful serving dishes and fabulous food. The bar was laden with premade mock-tails, fancy gassy water and joke napkins. The kitty-litter box smelled of Fabreeze.
It hit me like a TON OF BRICKS. For all my cock-ups and all the years of drunken mistakes I had been focusing on, the IMPORTANT thing is that I have done a few things EXACTLY right. I have cultivated true-blue friendships. I have a son who is kind and loving. I have raised an adult daughter who is beautiful, funny and GENEROUS of spirit.
Today I’m going forward like it’s New Year’s Day.
I was grumpy with Fiona. She started my day by waking up at the end of the bed, stretching and vomiting onto the duvet.
I had breakfast with Joel – an old pilot friend of mine. He is the guy who flew me to some of my best and worse times on Staniel Cay. He flew me home one time with no front teeth, two black eyes and a hematoma the size of a Ping-Pong ball on my forehead (a run-in with a bathroom sink – don’t ask). It was someone else’s full King Air, and I had to sit on the jump seat that doubles as a toilet. I had bangs then and Willy Wonka, huge round shades so no one knew how bad it was, or that I really should have gone to the hospital when I landed.
I didn’t go to AA to collect my chip. I’m not sure why.
The rest of the day I tried to pretend I was happy. I got some work done, made appointments and canceled appointments, answered well-wishes and emails from those congratulating me on a red letter year and in spite of myself – I wallowed in REGRET…
Lauren was having a party for me, so I got ready and went. My best buddies and greatest supporters were there, her apartment was glowing with candle light and furniture polish. The table was laid with beautiful serving dishes and fabulous food. The bar was laden with premade mock-tails, fancy gassy water and joke napkins. The kitty-litter box smelled of Fabreeze.
It hit me like a TON OF BRICKS. For all my cock-ups and all the years of drunken mistakes I had been focusing on, the IMPORTANT thing is that I have done a few things EXACTLY right. I have cultivated true-blue friendships. I have a son who is kind and loving. I have raised an adult daughter who is beautiful, funny and GENEROUS of spirit.
Today I’m going forward like it’s New Year’s Day.
