This day my son turns 28 years old. Born on Leap Day in 1988, when I was three, almost four years sober. That seems like such a tiny bit of sobriety now, way too little to be bringing another life into the world. But he will never know what a miracle my sobriety and so his life is. The way I drank, there’s no way he wouldn’t have been permanently damaged and probably killed by it, if he had even ever started, which he wouldn’t have. Those sobriety babies are the biggest blessing of my life.
We were talking politics, and mentioning Margaret Thatcher lead him to ask if our cat Thacher was named after her. Um, no. He was named after Ebby Thacher, which lead to a short explanation of who that was. I tried to explain without saying anything that might turn my son off to it, like I didn’t mention a Higher Power. Just in case he should need this particular solution one day.
When I was 28, he was four, and I was six years sober. So I can’t compare us at 28. But I can say that he has succeeded and not messed up anything like I did way before I was his age. So, a true and astonishing miraculous success story brought to you, like all my successes are, by AA. A twenty eight year old who has never been endangered by my alcoholism.