On the Open Road

A last I've smashed the imaginary chains which bound me to the booze bottle and weighed the imaginary anchor which held me fast to my darkened bedroom. Thanks to my Higher Power, I can ride in any kind of conveyance from plane to bus, without fear, and hence without a drink. That nameless, horrible terror of the unknown which clutched me and aborted any attempt to leave home has been put to flight. I've just returned from a delightful cruise to Alaska, my longest trip since I joined AA over four years ago. It's significant because just five years ago my husband announced he wouldn't go on our planned trip to Alaska with me because I was drinking too much! So that time we canceled our beautiful reservations and stayed home. I'm thankful we didn't go then because I enjoyed the trip to the utmost this time. Five years ago I doubt if I should have been able to pierce my enveloping alcoholic fog long enough to see the majestic snow-capped mountains dropping so sharply to the sea, or their blue-green glaciers snaking towards the ocean. I wouldn't have made any new friends either.