Let me be perfectly clear. I do NOT want to be sober. To my very core it is the very last thing my head wants. And believe me when I say “self” is having a heyday with all of this. As it sat and waited patiently, as always, somehow it was given the one thing it believes I will give into. I have had many many plans to relapse since Dave passed. The hardest ones where involving Detroit. On the plane ride to go and pack up everything I had left in the world I had made up my mind I would have a rum and coke. Mostly because I was an adult and adults drink when they fucking want. Right? Also because I “needed” some relief from myself. But probably because for the first time since D day I was alone and could do WHAT I WANTED! It was so simple the flight attendant was coming down the aisle asking what you wanted to drink. I saw others getting alcohol even though it was 8am. No matter I was going to politely ask for my beverage. As the flight attendant got closer I was plotting how I could chug the airplane shooter and get rid of the evidence so I would be sitting there with just a soda. How I would have to buy toothpaste when we landed since security took mine in Phoenix. I would HAVE to brush my teeth and also buy gum so no one but me would know. She approached handing me one of those delicious cookie biscuit things and all I said was water. Ummmm excuse me? WATER? WTF! You have got to be kidding me! Yep I did. No rum. No soda. Just water. “It’s fine” my head said “you just have cold feet we will do it later”. Self is incredibly insidious in my case. The next four to five plans included picking up a bottle to or from my brother in laws house. Possibly hitting up one of Dave’s old friends to get Xanax (just so I could sleep lol) None of them ever happened. I did however sob uncontrollably each and every time I went to and from Joe’s but I did not relapse. Once I got to the kids that desire quickly disappeared at least for now. To this day I do not understand how I did not do something that I was determined to do. So often we hear when someone relapses that they were not in control. It’s like possession. Well I guess I was possessed by Jesus because me, myself, of my own will would be shitfaced in a gutter no problem. I am incredibly grateful that something was looking out for me and all that the 12 steps have given me. I believe I could relapse at anytime and no one would have the right to shame me (I’d probably sock them right in their face) the thing is the life that AA has given me, even with losing Dave, is beyond anything I ever thought I could achieve. I hope I can continue in the path of gratitude and acceptance and not stray. I still have so much more to lose at the end of the day. Grief sucks but it doesn’t mean you give up on life. This too shall pass.