I took the morsel and placed it in my mouth. In one small bite I was whisked away to another place and time. Memories flooded in awakening sensations long since lost. Images danced in my mind and history’s song played in my ears. The fudge was perfect. My mother could have made it, I was certain. Joy blossomed in me for a short time. This was a gift. “I’ll have some of that”, I said.
I will not drink today because alcohol could never accomplish what that fudge did.
Will you join me?
My last drink was 41/2 years ago. This makes me a mere babe in sobriety terms when compared to titans like my friend John, who has 35 sober years under his belt, however, it’s been long enough to understand why some people repeat behaviours over and over again, which ultimately leads them to the fuck
Every time you stop, you learn a little more about what sober is. So tonight I stopped in at a local grocery store to get a few things. It’s the freestanding kind that has a liquor store in it. The thought of going in to buy alcohol didn’t cross my mind, any more than walking
I was half adopted. For those of you who don’t know what that means, for me it was that my mother who was maybe 22, took off from our hometown in the northeast and followed a man to Georgia. That man was not my father. She left me with my grandparents intending to return for