How a simple prayer under an old oak tree ended years of fancy drinks and handcuffs
Invariably, when we share about surrender, I think about my personal surrender from alcohol, not my surrender to alcohol. At my morning meeting, when our speaker shared about visiting Cuba in her early days of sobriety, I was reminded of my mid-20s when I spent two-and-a-half years in Puerto Rico. My drink of choice then was the Cuba libre, which was made in a 16-ounce glass, half-full of Puerto Rican rum and half-full of cola. After two of these, sitting out in El Yunque rain forest strumming my old guitar, I was free indeed—wasted away in Cuba libre-ville!