In the beginning of my sobriety in 1987, the slogans of Alcoholics Anonymous meant little to this high-bottom, twenty-year-old alcoholic. Things were good; life was sweet–as long as I didn’t drink. Those slogans were fine for some, and they sounded really good when I spoke them from the podium, but words to live by? I thought not. I was far too busy mapping out my life to “Let Go And Let God.” In my defense, I was really good at practicing “First Things First”, as long as it involved me being first. I was not a nay-sayer of the slogans of Alcoholics Anonymous, just ignorant of their meaning and power to comfort in times of difficulty.
As you can imagine, my inability to apply the slogans, or any other part of the program, led me, after a time, back into the grip of active alcoholism at the age of thirty-one. The magic elixir had me, and good! No slogans, or amount of knowledge, nor any power on this earth could stop me for the next three years, and believe me, this was not for lack of trying everything in my power to get sober.
During this time, my mother, a sober member of Alcoholics Anonymous since 1978, with twenty years of sobriety, was dying of lung cancer. I struggled to stay sober for her, to be there in her time of need. Even something as monumental as losing my mother and best friend in the world could not stop my drinking. I knew I was in trouble, and so did she. In her last week on earth, on my way home from a meeting (on one of my many failed missions to get and stay sober), I visited her in the hospital to see how she was doing and to update her on my progress with recovery.
I started to tell her that I re-hired my sponsor, whom I had fired in year five of my sobriety my first time around, and that I thought I had a good shot at staying sober this time, having also joined a new group. I had a solid plan of action. Her simple reply to my ramblings was, “Kim, what time is it?”
“Uh . . .well, I think it’s about 9:30, Ma. Why?” I said, somewhat confused at where she was going with this.
“Well, it’s almost time for bed then, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I answered, thinking that the pain medication must be kicking in again.
“Well, if you didn’t drink today, and the day is almost over, then you are staying sober. Right?” I remember thinking to myself how simplistic and matter-of-fact she sounded about my fool-proof plan.
“I guess I am,” I said, kissing her good night, and thus putting an end to the last conversation I would ever have with my mother. She passed five days later.
It would be a nice ending to a touching story if I said I stayed away from booze from that day on, but this was not to be the case. I had to get to that jumping-off point the Big Book speaks of, and eventually I did.
I have been sober now a little over two years. My mother has been gone almost three years, yet not a day passes when I don’t think about that bedside meeting that was all of four sentences long, and how the few words she said to me then have helped in keeping me sober for the past couple of years.
When I reflect on that last encounter with my mom, I realize that she was not simplistic, she was “Keeping it Simple.” And although she knew her time was limited, she also knew that all any of us have, alcoholic or not, is “One Day at a Time.” And despite the fact that she was gasping for every breath, she was “Passing It On” to me with the hope that I might again find sobriety. A lot has happened in these past few years, and I’ve had days when I didn’t think I would make it through. Yet “One Day at a Time,” I attend a meeting or talk to a member of AA, and thanks to people like my mom, I have a life that is not owned or threatened by alcohol.
It used to be the more elaborate and flamboyant a message was, the more I was apt to listen. That is not the case any longer. I don’t just hear the slogans anymore; I feel them when I speak them, usually out loud, in times of crisis. They take hold of me; they change the course of my day if I let them. Imagine that! Those cute little banners with the little words on them that we use to decorate the halls of AA can change my day! Who would have thought? Thanks to those cute little banners, I don’t do much of that thinking stuff anymore if I can help it.