I recently went on a Twelfth Step call with another recovering alcoholic to a woman’s home. What I saw and felt there is almost impossible to put into words, but I felt the need to try for those in the Fellowship who may be getting somewhat complacent. After many years of sobriety it’s easy to remember, but not always feel, the depth of the pain. This experience flooded my soul with the reality of the disease.
As my friend and I entered the apartment, we were met with the stench of vomit and urine. The woman was covered with filth. She was partially nude, she was malnourished, there was no food in the house, bills were gathering dust. Two bottles of whiskey were at her bedside. With this chaos around her, all this poor woman could ask for, beg for, was another drink.
Amidst this disarray and sickness, on her stark walls was evidence of her past life: hanging in a beautiful frame was a “Mother of the Year” award.
This woman altered my life. Although I didn’t reach the depths of despair that she did, it is waiting for me if I drink again.
I thank God for a daily reprieve contingent on my spirituality. Because of this woman, I pray longer, help others more, read AA literature with a vengeance, and try to apply the Steps more avidly. I don’t know if I helped her, but she will never know how much she helped me.