Corking the Bottle

I heard this Pink Floyd song during my bleak college days. I wished it were true, but it didn't apply to me. Not then. Not until I was about 50 or so. That's when I made it, I thought: "I had become comfortably numb." I drank beyond being comfortably numb. I blacked out. I lost control. I was blessed through my first 50 years. Then one by one, the things in my life I cherished, that had made me feel blessed, eroded until I was left with depression and anxiety. And alcohol. "When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse Out of the corner of my eye. I turned to look, but it was gone. I cannot put my finger on it now. The child is grown; The dream is gone. I have become comfortably numb." Thanks to God for giving me my feeling back.

This is a challenging post to write. If I tell the whole story, I will threaten the anonymity of an A.A.newcomer. But I'm going to try, because the serendipity with which God works is blatantly obvious in what is happening in her life. I was friends with a family 20 years ago. More precisely, I had a love and concern for the children, who I saw growing up in a high-risk environment. I later watched the kids pass into adulthood from a distance, with occasional contact with some who demonstrated sad results of their troubled childhoods. I didn't come to know one of the kids because she was just a baby then, waddling through the house wearing only a diaper -- or less. Later, I heard some heart-breaking, second- and third-hand stories about her as she grew. "God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change..." She and her siblings were among those "things." Through Facebook, her father confided concerns for the now-young woman. She came up

I wrote yesterday I was taking a break from blogging and maybe would quit due to a lack of readership. That resulted in an avalanche of one text message pleading with me to continue. So I will. This letter was in the advice column in the paper, and I thought it was worth sharing. Alcohol affects many more than just the alcoholic. See for yourself. Wife’s alcoholism impacts family Dear Annie:  My wife is an alcoholic. I wrote the letter below to myself really. I was wondering if you would publish it, in hopes that it might help someone who is afflicted with alcoholism: I lost my wife and my best friend to alcoholism in March of 2012. That was seven long years ago. She continues to breathe, to function, to exist, but she is not the same person. Not even close. My wife used to light up a room with her laugh and her smile. Alcoholism has extinguished both. My world has not been the same since. As a husband, this disease makes me feel like an utter failure, haunted by “may

I guess there is no one to say this to: I have been taking a blogging break. I am discouraged by the lack of readers in spite of my efforts to publicize this thing. I felt like God asked me to blog when I started a year and a half ago. Sadly, I sometimes wonder if God himself even reads my blog. God, guide me to do your will.