When All Is Said And Done

Years ago, after living in Indonesia for a period of time, I decided to return home. When I got to customs at SeaTac airport in Seattle, the inspector smiled warmly and said: “Welcome Home!” The moment brought tears to my eyes. It was so good to be home. That is the same feeling I’ve gotten since March 13, 1986, when I attended my first Al-Anon meeting (a necessary prelude to admitting I was an alcoholic). This same sentiment is expressed by many in AA when they arrive bereaved over lives that have been screwed up by alcohol. When I met other alcoholics a couple years later in the program, people who are treating their diseases, I know the language and understand the subtleties that “foreigners” (people without the disease) never truly know. We know the lives stolen away by this disease, but despite differences in age, religious beliefs, education, and all those other variables that usually define our social affiliations, there is a bond.