My father would have been . . . I don’t know how old today. Nearing 80 I guess. But he died at 33 from alcoholism. My first thoughts about this today are that 1) that’s part of what saved me by getting me to seek help so young and so early in my drinking and 2) if there are degrees of alcoholism, and if they are hereditary, I believe I inherited severe alcoholism. My third thought is that I have, hopefully, broken the chain. Oh my goodness how I hope that. Both of my kids drink, and it frightens me. They’ve both gotten into trouble with it, though not, to my knowledge, lately. No question they both function at an incredibly higher level than I ever did, drunk or sober. They have no idea this is their grandfather’s birthday. He plays no part in their lives, expect for the questionable genes he’s passed down. We’re all short.
In my little world, the insurance man comes tomorrow to tell us if insurance will cover any of the damage we’ve had due to a leaky pipe. We’ve had the plumbing fixed, some cabinets dropped, and we have a mold estimate. I’ve been with the same insurance company since I was 16. Every car and every house, and never a claim. I really hope this is covered.
But if it’s not, I’ll be OK. AA taught me that and though I know I haven’t experienced it yet, I’m pretty sure it is true.