Enjoying the Mess

It was time to take my grandson home after spending a day together. It was around 9:00 in the evening. He had had his bath and was in his pajamas, but he was stalling. I could hear his priceless giggles in the other room. I was clueless about what he was doing but he sounded so happy. I stood at the door listening to him and my memories of the past slid in. 



Was there any laughter like this when I was out drinking? No, mostly tears. I was moaning in pain and self-pity. But laughter? Never.



My drinking history is familiar to most alcoholics. I was a hot mess. I had been arrested for my third DUI. I had crossed that invisible line from social drinking into daily need. I was defeated by alcohol. It owned me totally. I could not make any decisions. My life consisted of quickly finishing what I had to do so I could start drinking to ease my pain. 



I was middle-aged with two failed marriages behind me. I had lost a child in a car accident. The driver who killed my child was over the legal limit of alcohol and was looking at significant time in prison. And yet, there I was turning into the very thing that killed my child.



But now I’m sober and I’m spending time with my 5-year-old grandson. His laughter is infectious. I called out to him to say it was time to leave and yet he continued to laugh. When he finally came to the kitchen and sat on my lap, he had a mischievous look in his eye. I told him how much I loved him, put his coat on and placed him in his booster seat to drive him home.



When I dropped him off and returned home, I looked in the bathroom. He had unrolled the entire roll of toilet paper. It was heaped on the floor in so many directions. The pile of paper was just like my life had been when I drank. There was no way to see where anything started and where it ended. As I looked at this pile of endless paper, I began laughing so hard. I dropped to my knees and thanked God that I found a better life. 



Each day, I’ve been given a clean slate to write a new day’s activity. I can choose. I can use this slate to engage in old behaviors of drinking and self-pity or I can use this clean slate to continue to allow God to give me guidance and inspiration. 



Through AA, I am learning how to make and keep personal relationships, the kind I could only imagine when I was drinking. The wonderful and caring souls I meet in AA want nothing from me. We depend on each other. Maybe someone’s going through a tough time. A drink may be looking good, or maybe they’ve had a terrible day. We sober alcoholics have bad days sometimes. We are like others except we just can’t drink. It is that easy or hard. The Steps are in order for a purpose. We can’t skip around and do the Steps that seem the easiest. It’s because of the hard work in AA that I’ve been given the privilege of having my grandson come to my house.



Some days are better than others. I get sad, I worry, and I experience stress. But I turn these over to God and pray. My grandson keeps me on my toes and I learn something new each day. He’s surrounded genetically on both sides by the disease of alcoholism, but I cannot worry; we will cross that road when it’s time. 



Until then, I will enjoy the show.  The toilet paper heaped on the floor reminds me that I never want to return to that old life of pain and tears. I want to be here as long as possible to enjoy the next chapter of my life. I’m grateful that God has a rich sense of humor. I want to laugh so hard that tears roll down my face every day.