Sunday Morning

It’s truly Autumn!  And I truly get to sit on my sofa and blog!  And there are real football games on the television!  There is an afghan I knit eleven years ago while I was glued to the TV watching the aftermath of 9/11 – it is a beautiful wool and mohair blend with large cables – and I am soon to lay this on top of me while I sleep the amazing sleep of a football autumn afternoon.

Yes, I have homework.  And yes, I will get it done.

At the meeting this morning it was the birthday of a man I have known since he got sober.  27 years ago.  We have a stormy relationship, and yet we hug when we see each other and tell each other “I love you” in honesty.  He irritates me endlessly.  His mantra has always been “happy, joyous, and free!”  And most of the time he has used it as a final argument or a war cry.  It has never felt happy, joyous, or free to me.  Today he said in the meeting “I don’t know where I got “happy, joyous, and free” from, but I have always said it.”  Seriously.  He apparently forgot that it was written in 1939 by Bill and Bob in the big book.  He thinks he made it up.  Oh well.  It takes all kinds to fill up the freeway and a meeting.

I was talking with another friend who was flirting with me.  He is a lounge singer.  We have been flirting for the last 27 and a half years – when he got sober.  Now he’s in his late 60s or early 70s, and I am 60.  He put his arm around me as we walked out into the parking lot and sang “Everybody loves somebody sometime….”  to me.  Dean Martin.  How freaking awesome.  I left there feeling like a girl.

It seems I failed to mention that I hurt my back on Thursday night at my new class.  Sitting at a tiny bench at a tiny table in a grade school cafeteria for two hours.  I thought it would stop hurting when I stood up.  I thought it would stop hurting when I woke up the next day.  I thought it would stop hurting the next day after that.  But now it hurts worse than it did before and I am a little bit disconcerted.  I have taken such good care of myself and trained flawlessly for the race one week from today.  It may be that I will be undone by sitting in a class for two hours.  Oh well.  Maybe today I can rest it enough.

Oh, it is all so good.  So grateful to be sober, to be alive, to be healthy.

Lord, you have been our dwelling place in all generations.  Before the mountains were brought forth, or ever you had formed the earth and the world, from everlasting to everlasting you are God.  — Psalm 90:1-2

 

Advertisements
This entry was posted in Friends, Gratitude, Race, Rest, Training. Bookmark the permalink.

4 Responses to Sunday Morning

  1. Annette says:

    I think I would bring an adult sized lawn chair and a lap pad to do my work on. I hope you feel better soon so you are good and ready for your race. :o) Your blanket sounds glorious…and aren’t you blessed to have a man singing Dean Martin to you?! Gosh….not everyone can say they have had that experience!

  2. I like Annette’s idea of the lawn chair. There are people in my home group in California that used to do that, too.

    I have one of those irritating guys in my life, too. Its a love/irritate kind of relationship. His thing is “Don’t drink, go to meetings.” Got it from an oldtimer in Cleveland and carried it here to WV. He and I are about the same age and have the same marriage-break up in recovery story. So much in common but he annoys the bloody hell out of me sometimes. But he owes me now big time because I hooked him up with a friend of mine and now they’re madly in love lol.

  3. Pam says:

    You sound so much lighter my sweet friend.

  4. luluberoo says:

    “lounge singer” sounds like something from the past. It struck me funny.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s