Ever have the tears well up in your throat until you could no longer swallow?  Eyes stinging, burning with memories of days gone by. The bitter and the sweet of a life limped and skipped over lava lakes and frigid waters.  I get weepy around anniverseries.  Always have.  But usually only in “safe” places, where mascara can drip and tissues are handy.  Not usually in front of the mini ninjas, because some pain they need not know as of yet. Definitely NOT … at work. Today, however, the real was served up on a hot platter in the break room; with only the entire world watching.

Break room scene number one; serendipitous surprise of recovery talk with a friend.  Someone I admire and like muchly.  (We’ll call her “B”. She knows who she is *wink*)  She was gloriously brave talking of a family members inability to stop drinking and the aftermath she lovingly is caring for, the aftermath being a child.  To be able to share experience, strength, and hope in the most unlikely of places was a gift fo’ sho’.  I was moved beyond measure.

Fast forward to 1-ish. Another break (yes I know I get two … can you believe that?) and what happened next made it hard to swallow.  A coworker had previously made a comment about my children being well behaved like their father. *ahem* If you’ve read any of my blogs on Domestic Violence and my past … you’ll get this.  If not … read back to understand or kick rocks.  The “commenter” was met with silence.  You see … the room was filled with my friends … that I didn’t even realize I had connected so closely with.  They’ve read my scratches, here and facebook … they’ve seen and heard me.

Now this may seem small to you.  Minute, moot, insignificant, obtuse, and just plain pathetic. But to someone such as myself, who has been disconnected from the universe for years; this is beyond epic. After “B” told me, on the second break, how people spoke kindly of me … were compassionate towards me … KNEW me; I was utterly dumbfounded.  The tears came and would NOT stop.  That rarely happens as I pride myself on intellect over emotion, yes I know roll your eyes.

For the first time in almost a decade (seven years of a marriage gone sour and two trying to recover), I am connected.  Transparent. Congruent. Aware. Awake. Real. What a freakin’ report card that was.  And I didn’t cry because this year should’ve been (i know that word sucks but shush) 18  instead of 2 years. And it’s not because I flushed 15 years down the toilet.  And it’s not because my ex beat me into a bloody pulp. And it’s not because my I’m starting over again … in every way possible to start over. Not because I sleep alone or haven’t felt a loving touch from a man in so long I can’t remember.  Nope. None of those things matter, at this particular moment anyway.

Simple kindness. From unexpected sources. That as a result of recovery, I am not alone.  We sorta “expect” kindness in the rooms and all.  But “earth people” (I abhor that term by the way. bleck.) with no agenda? When I wasn’t even there? Even now tears are hitting the keyboard.  The huge brick wall has dissolved, and I didn’t even know it.  Maybe for the first time in so many long lonely years, I’m not only okay … but part of life again.

An appendix in the back of the Big Blue Book tells me that many times spiritual experiences are of the educational variety.  That they “develop slowly over a period of time” and that quite often everyone else can see it … before we can.  Wham. Bam. I saw it as it slapped me in the face. I am no longer apart from but a part of … this thing called life.

I cried like an infant today. Tears of healing, of liberation, of forgiveness, and hope. So many tears that it was almost the undoing of me. Cleansing and meaningful.  For the love of life, the love of me, the love of unexpected friends, and for the love  …  of recovery. Blessed beyond measure, call me a crybaby and I’m okay with it.  It’s real and raw. And I’m all about that … as you well know.  Thanks for today “B”. Whether you know it or not, you left me a changed woman.  And for that … I’ll be eternally grateful.