My daughter Erika is 25 today. Actually, as I write this, she is just a few minutes shy of 25. That day was truly one of the worst of my life, and one of the best. I’m pretty sure I suffered from post-traumatic stress afterward, not to mention all the postpartum fun plus colic. I was 23 then, and most important, I was 16 months sober. Twenty-five years later, she has not yet been endangered by my alcoholism. She hasn’t seen me drunk or drugged or hung over. I have not been so during her life time. Of all the things I can possibly experience in this life time, this is certainly one of the most important, and one of the best.
Today she is far away, and if I think about it, it is frightening. So instead I’ll think that she called me today, and I got to hear that she is well and happy. She’s freaked out by the graduate school experience that lies mostly ahead of her, but she’s going out with new friends tonight, and tonight she has everything she needs.
And so do I.
Tomorrow we celebrate the fifth anniversary of the group that Carole and I and some others started. I love that meeting and I’m glad it’s still here, five years later, and that we are also.
And I’ll go to great lengths to avoid writing about sponsorship.