In March of this year I decided it was time for me to explore a space of abstinence from alcohol. Throughout the madness of 2020 I got to the point of offering myself an extravagant amount of permission to have a drink or three on most evenings.
I consumed enough bourbon to the point where my attention and intention to my family and parishioners felt questionable at best. And I’m sure it didn’t help the growing inflation rate of the spare tire around my mid-section.
I decided it was time to try my hand at alcoholics anonymous. I decided on a local group, settled past the stigmas and began drinking coffee out of a Styrofoam cup while huddling up with drunks in a musty smelling church basement.
In all honesty, in that moment, it was better than good. The decision to not drink barely felt like a challenge and walking into a meeting where I felt the freedom to be an ordinary knucklehead like everyone else felt like a new angle on salvation.
I was over six weeks into this newfound sobriety when my healthy 77 year old dad got body slammed by Covid-19 and died quite suddenly. My memory of playing nine holes of golf with him just one month prior was still so fresh. How does anyone prepare for something like this?
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