I sat in the back of the room. I watched as A.A. members slowly paraded in. People that go to A.A. are so diverse. You have professionals and working class people -- stay at home moms and burly construction workers. I people watched until the meeting started.
"Everyone ready for a meeting?" rang out in the old church.
We read "How it works" and "The Twelve Traditions." Soon, the floor was opened up to speak.
"Hi, I'm Andrew and I am an alcoholic," I said. "It is a beautiful morning and a fine day for an A.A. meeting. My mother gave me eight dollars last night for A.A. meetings. I have a strong desire to use that money to drink. I have been in so much emotional anguish and pain lately. I know I will destroy my mother's trust if I drink with that money. My family knows everything I do. I just appreciate having a safe place to come to this Sunday morning and I thank you all for being here. I pass."
Several "Thanks for coming," and "Keep coming back!" rang out in the room. It is unlike me to share. I just felt moved to do so. Today has been one of those days were it took every ounce of my being to avoid drinking -- that favored mouthwash just a drive away.
I came home and fixed a lunch of some ham sandwiches. Maggie got some ham as well -- ever hungry. I then set out for my second walk of the day. I saw my elderly friend who sits upon his porch everyday.
"Almost too cold to sit out here," he said.
I stopped and pulled off my headphones.
"It has been chilly lately," I replied.
I was hungry for conversation and we went on to talk for several minutes about Auburn football -- Auburn having won last night beating Ole' Miss.
I finally left my friend to sit and smoke. Down through the mill village I traversed -- the children playing bringing joy to my soul. I saw one child swing on her swing and it made me long to have the simplicity of youth again.
I ended my journey at the convenience store spending some of my paltry income on a drink. I sat outside above the "No Loitering" sign as I finished my drink and people watched. A young black lady accosted me for a cigarette, but I said, "No, you are too young." She looked all of sixteen. I then walked on home.