I was sober for a long time … a (relatively) long time ago.  There was a place that I went every Friday night for a decade.  If anyone needed to see me they knew to go to the Northampton meeting and my saucy rump would be there up to g-o-d knows what.  My home group. Home. Where I fit; belonged, scars and warts (not literally people geeze) and all.  That place, where  no matter what happened, I could find solace from the maelstrom that is the human condition.

Okay enough poetic license here … I was asked to speak tonight. Share my ESH (ya’ll BETTER know what THAT means) to a place that meant everything to me for a long time.  Men and women that picked me up off the ground at my worst.  Who celebrated my victories more than I did, holding up signs of “atta girl” cheerleader style when I wouldn’t toot my own horn.  Most importantly the ones who looked the other way, shook their head, and laughed when I acted like an asshat.  Without condition or reservation, they were my family.

I left them. During the Prince Charming-less years.  Right after marriage vows of “til death or … can’t stand bein’ a hostage anymore … do us part.” Ten plus years of fellowship and laughter and love and most of all recovery … slowly slipped away. (see the girl i used to be … or the relapse of a midtimer for further reference) Nary a call or a message just simply … got gone. *sigh*

So … as a result of social networking, namely facebook, I was asked to speak there on this 90 degree sultry evening.  Talk about serendipity. Unexpected treasure in a myriad of ways. Amends making, re-connecting, sharing as catharsis, and mostly just because I adore public speaking and miss it terribly.  Okay I’m joking. Sorta. Okay I’m NOT. Whatever.

Being a former “circuit” speaker … meaning hitting the rounds (in Akron meetings) pretty much leading once a week for years and years. (Lead=Speaker… Akron AA-speak) These last two years that I’ve been back I’ve only led once, where I live now.  I swear to the baby jesus that the audience was made up of crickets and mutes.  Anyway … there was laughing, crying, more laughing tonight. And that was just me. Before the meeting. Head wagging and thoughtful words, brought me to sobbing more than once.  (my eyeliner didn’t run once. score.)

It was the most healing experience I’ve had since I crawled back into the program two years ago.  People that watched me literally grow up in the program … from the tender age of 19. Claire D, Susan C, Sue, Dean R., Paul G, Matt, Michael G. … to a person knew/know the real me.  Thank you so very much from the bottom of my heart for staying.  For loving me. For embracing me.  For being my … family.  I love you more than these words could ever share. (Some of them are on Facebook and ITR … they can tell you I’m even more of a dork in real life … true story.)

On my hour drive home, the moon and I shared a few moments with the radio and goosebumps. Tears and quiet gratitude. The peace of forgiveness and lack of conditions flavored my coffee.  Their words of beauty and spine tingling hugs will assuage the loneliness when it comes to call.  Soul sustenance, all three legacies forming the magic triangle that is … double A.  On this night I wasn’t alone. I shared it all, transparency being my number one goal.  They got it. Me. I came home.

And on this night I do indeed … love recovery.