Finding Peace: Sharon's Journey from Chaos to Sobriety

Hi, I'm Sharon, alcoholic. It's good to be here. Thank you, Oscar. Finally made it. I'm glad. And John, thanks for the welcome. Where's John? There you are. He's got it all down. And for letting me in the bathroom. Crazy key. Oh, and thank you, Sophie and Eddie for your talks. I really appreciated warming me up because I come sit here with this meeting and any meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, it makes sense to me to sit with you. So I know I'm an alcoholic. It still makes sense to me. And I forget sometimes that

there's hope. I don't know about you guys, but thank you. And Irene and Sharon and Nancy for being

here. What? Move the cup. Oh, who needs a cup? I got a bottle. That's funny. I didn't know you're

awake. Sorry. We've been going since like six o'clock this morning. So on a Saturday, that's

sincere for me. I could not do that if I wasn't sober. I'll tell you that. I wouldn't have made

it, I don't think, out of a nice cold morning bar where I could, you know, meet my doctor friend

and my lawyer friend and my astronaut friend. You know, everybody's something in a bar. And that's

why I love the bars. You could be anything you wanted to be. And that's why I loved alcohol

because it allowed me to not care and not care. When I drank alcohol for the first time, it was

like, I don't know, the word is omnipotence. It's like it was powerful. It allowed that loud head I

had as a little girl that was always telling me something like, you know, the ghosts are out

there or it's under the bed or listen to that noise or it's really dark and there's things in

the dark or, you know, jump off that cliff or, you know, whatever it was, you know, just allowed

that voice that was loud. They all got drunk. All those voices got drunk. I didn't have to sort

them out. Who's on my side? Who's not on my side? And then they change clothes in the middle of the

night and then you don't know who's who in your head. And this is what I did. I didn't have to

do anything. This was me as a little girl. My mother said we had to keep you busy. So I was in

a lot of activities. And I am the only alcoholic that I know. Maybe one more is working on it in

my family. So it's not like, and that's just recent. So I was the one that stood out. I was

the one that had more energy than most. I was the one that asked too many questions. I was the

oversensitive one. I was the one that ran down the street and made them stop the car so I could

give grandpa, my favorite grandpa, a hug again because he's going to die before I get him.

It was always, in my head, drama. But on the outside, I could put it on and smile and get my

way and whatever. But I had that loud head. So when I drank alcohol, all those voices got drunk.

They just all got drunk and said, let's party. And so I could take a breath and my trainer bra

woke up that night. I got very sexy when I was like 12, 13 years old and skinny as a rail. But

I said, move on over 38D. I'm in town. And it was a good time. And before that, I had been on a

spiritual search, which I always was on a spiritual search. I don't know. I meet a lot of seekers in

AA. And the beautiful part about being sober is that if your feet are firmly planted, as the book

says, we can continue to seek. Bill gave us that. I think it's awesome because we're never going to

get there. We're never going to get to perfection.

Or whatever it is. Anyway, I don't think I will here on this earth, but I can keep trying. And I

love the quest of trying to get closer to my God all the time. It's a freedom that I have now that

I found in Alcoholics Anonymous. But when I was little, I sat in the cornfields in Iowa looking

for the mothership because I knew they left me in Iowa. So I knew that they were going to come back

and get me and take me. And I just was always seeking. And I wanted to be like Gandhi.

And I wanted to be, yeah, he got assassinated. And I looked, I didn't know that. I was, you know,

I was, he got assassinated before I was into Gandhi. And then I was looking at a Life magazine.

It was like, what? You know, so that, you know, why go to India? Why fast? Just drink some Canadian

club and you, you know, feels like you've had an awakening, you know? And so the spirits I was

seeking were in the spirits of the bottle. They worked for me. And it didn't do that for my good

friend. It didn't do that for some people I ran with.

I mean, later on, it sorted us all out. Later on, it was like, nah, I'm going to drink with you.

Later on, it was like, just stand back and, you know, leave me alone. I'm not hurting anybody.

I mean, I'm not hurting anyone but me. Leave me alone. And so my defiance came out. I'm extremely

defiant. I'm extremely independent. And I'm a survivor, as we all are, because we get to sit

here. We all get to sit here. We have survived whatever war it was out there. And we get to come

in here and share experiences.

We get to experience strength and hope to help others. So what our experience has done in

Alcoholics Anonymous, we get to turn that experience into helping another so that their

mother can sleep at night. Because my mother slept at night for years and years and years

because of you, because of you. Because she didn't know many times where her daughter was

out of three girls and she had a son. So there were four of us. And I was the one that gave her

sleepless, sleepless nights. And little do we know when you come in here that,

all those, you know, that inventory and all that whole big list and, you know, the amends that we're

going to have to make. And of course, it started with old boyfriends. I wanted to kind of see how

I look now, see how I am now. You know, you lose, right? You know, she just scratched those right

off the list. But there were a lot of tough ones on that list. And a lot of them didn't get to come

true until I stayed sober a while. And then it would manifest itself, you know. So I'm still in

the learning phase here. You know, I'm, I'm, I'm 43 years and three weeks and seven days sober

to three, am I 40? When am I? 40, 11 and three weeks and seven days, eight days. All right,

whatever. It's, it's August 20th is going to be my birthday if I hang in there. I don't know. I

can't figure it out tonight. I've been up too long. I'm saturated in the brain. I've been doing

mental things all day long. You know, scripts.

And things like that. And it's just, it's taxing. It's taxing. I'm going, where's my coffee? Where's

my Diet Coke? I need something. But I'm, I'm definitely, I forgot, you know, it's interesting.

July 27th, 1975 was the day that I had my surrender. And so that's 44 years ago today.

I didn't realize that Nancy, who was driving told me, oh, she waited to drop the mic on me

right before coming here. It's July 27th. Remember? I was like, oh, it's July 27th.

It's the day they left me off the side of the road. It's the day they left me with my jaw broken

in three places and scraped up and bruised up and concussioned and no, you know, just if I wouldn't

have had such good bones, there would have been a lot more things broken. And it was, it's the day

I laid in a ditch and, and I heard a voice that said, get up. I want to live. And I think that I,

I think that I grabbed the grace because we all get it. Grace is everywhere all the time. And I

grabbed the grace that morning.

Not knowing. All it was, was a will to live. That's all. And I hadn't had that will in a long

time. And I was 25 years old, going on 26 in two weeks. And I ended up on a gurney in Palm Springs

with the police there. I have no ID. I have nothing. I have no clothes. I have nothing.

And I had to write my name as they were prepping me to put my jaw back on my face for surgery.

And I saw the word victim. And I was like, yes.

It's like, I was shooting for something like that. I mean, it was like, call home and say,

look at, I really am a victim. And that was my defiance, but that broken face couldn't have

smiled. I couldn't talk. So I just, I was in the hospital for two weeks and my mother didn't know

for two days what shape I was in because they didn't tell her what hospital I was in. So she

had to call and my sister back East had to call and they had to find me and find out I was going

to be okay. And then my mother lost sleep those two nights, but I'm not hurting anyone but me.

And that's where my alcoholism took me. I didn't, you know, it didn't just roll right into there.

I tried a lot of things. I have a chapter three, you know, I went to work in an ad agency in New

York city. I went to college for a little while. I had a fake ID and a lot of fun. And, and I used

to like to go to protests and get tear gassed. And, you know, cause, cause I was just pissed

off. I had my boyfriend who was, we got lava leered and then I got, you know, which was a

big thing. And the sorority, which I said, I'm not going to do that. I'm not going to do that.

And I said goodbye to them too, because they, they didn't like my friends. And then we got,

we got, we had got an engagement and we had a date to get married and he cheated on me. And

I thought, well, if that's what that's all about, I'm not going to get that close to anybody

anymore. So I, I really didn't. I had, you know, boyfriends, but I guess if you could call

that a boyfriend, but maybe for, you know, the night or I had one boyfriend,

we met with a carnival. Now, I mean, that was, that was the day that my mother started to cry

on the phone. You did what? You're where? You joined what? I said, come on, mom, I'm writing

a book, you know? And, and it was just like, God, I can't even call home. And that boyfriend,

we were together for two years, but we hated each other. We hated each other, but you leave first.

No, you leave first. You leave first. And it was just insanity. I mean, insanity. Everything I had

as a beautiful little innocent child of God coming into this world, I drank away. And I remember

the time when I was, maybe I was, I had run away from my dad and I had a fight. I went to New York.

I worked at an ad agency. I, I drank. I, it was the summer of orange sunshine. It was 1969. It

was a lot of fun. And, and, um, I never slept, I don't think. And the bars were open till four

and they drank two hour martini lunches every day. It was fabulous. And, but some,

somewhere along the line, um, King Alcohol was going to say, slide across the bar, your art

talent now, which that's what I did. I went to go to art school. I was in art school and then I

couldn't paint anymore, but King Alcohol wanted it. I gave it, um, because I went back to school.

I said to my father, I promise I'll try. He said, okay, we'll give you another chance.

And I went to art school and I couldn't paint at all. It was like gone. So I went to Colorado

and somewhere in Colorado, I had a slide across the bar, my dignity.

If it would have been so clear that night at the Mountain Man Bar in Aspen, Colorado,

it's time to slide across the bar, your dignity. If you want to go down the road with King Alcohol,

what's my choice? King Alcohol wins every time. And, you know, and then I came to California for

the first time with Bob Dylan. And, um, I think it was Bob Dylan. Not really sure. Um, it was a

very spiritual time. I don't remember very much of it, but, um, then I got kicked out of a commune

for drinking their bong wine. Um, I, you know, cause people didn't drink like me. I got kicked

out of a commune commune because they don't drink like me. I got kicked out, literally the kicked

out of the carnival because they called, you know, the, we were in Bogalusa, Louisiana with the show

and I had been, um, well starting fights on the midway cause I don't want to give up my teddy

bear that night. And I'm just pissed off drinking my tequila. And these little kids think they're,

you know, they're shooting three targets down because I had a shooting gallery and they get

a teddy bear. If you shoot three targets and I'm drinking it, I don't care. No, you didn't. No,

so then they would come back with their dads cause they were like 12, you know, and,

and the dads would come and then I'd start a fight and then the Mesa come out and then everybody

would jump over their, their flat stores. And then it was a whole big thing. And then we get

asked to leave. And that happened a couple of times. And I had left, um, they had, I had left,

this is like, so they asked me, they, they ended up calling the parish finest on me. And I ended

up going to jail in Bogalusa, Louisiana and the carnival left town cause they didn't want me.

And I had left to join the carnival and organic farm in Northern Wisconsin,

where all I did was smoke pot and drool on themselves and play hootenanny music. And it

was like, oh, you guys. And they would tell me to behave, go play the spoons, go sit in the corner,

which is, you know, we had this guitar player here. He's like, and I just, oh, you guys are

so boring. And they would sip this little organic wine and smoke all of their pot. But I was like

drinking my tequila and cheap wine and they go, shh, behave, you know, and they left me,

but they left me.

With a lot of crop we planted. So, um, Maui Waui seed. So, you know, but they didn't want,

it's like, when I look back, I go, God, you know, all these places that were living on the edge,

people living on the edge, people looking for another lifestyle, which I was too, would say,

uh-uh, she's got, oh, that's kind of a testimony to King Alcohol. That's all I got to say. And,

uh, I just, oh man, somewhere along the line, I had to slide across the bar,

the love of my mom and dad and my parents and my, you know, my legacy.

And, you know, my history and all of that, I had to just slide it across because it was too painful

to go home. It was too painful to call home. It was too painful to be the one that, you know,

sat with, they, my, they sat me with the children again at grandma's house for Thanksgiving. I

didn't, I had made the big table and now I'm back on the porch with the children. So I saw, well,

I see what they think of me, you know, cause I'm always defiance and defiance kept me rolling.

Defiance kept me alive. Defiance kept me pushing it, pushing the envelope and pushing the

envelope. And, and it caused a lot of trouble. And, you know, after I got, uh, out of, out of

jail, I was with that boyfriend. Uh, we met up again and, um, he had a pet skunk named Crank and

we had, um, he ended up getting a snake cause he wanted to torture me with putting the mice in

there. And I had a dog and we lived above a biker bar down in, um, lower part of St. Peter's street

in the quarter. And one day,

my mom and dad showed up at the door cause they hadn't heard from me in a while or seen me. And,

um, this is a great man, my dad and a beautiful, one of the kindest, even my son says, you know,

grandma was the kindest woman I ever met, the kindest person I ever knew. Um, and I'm glad

some people in AA got to meet her and know her and love her like I did too. Um, and, and they

came and saw their daughter with a black eye, uh,

platinum blonde wig, you know, crazy outfit from, you know, dancing for Chris Owens the night before

platinum shoes, you know, platform shoes. And yeah, it's just like fishnet stockings and just

makeup and craziness. And I had just gotten home. It was morning and crazy, crazy man was there.

The snake wrapped around his arm. I can't even imagine. I can't even imagine. And when they

went home that day, I went and sat down in the mousetrap bar and I ordered my Jose Cuervo,

nice and neat and a big rock glass to the top. No salt, no lime. I don't know how many I downed

before I realized it didn't put the fire out. It didn't tell me I didn't care. It didn't give me

that. Just go back to Iowa. Leave me alone. It didn't give me the fire I needed to go on. And

if I could have run down the street and stopped their car and crawled in the back and laid down,

cause I was tired. I was probably about 22 then. I was tired. Um, I knew it wasn't going to

change. I knew it wasn't going to change. I knew it wasn't going to change. I knew it wasn't going

to change. I didn't know alcoholism. I really didn't know alcoholism. And we had a town drunk

in our little town, Mount Vernon, Iowa. We had a town drunk and he would come

and borrow a bottle from my dad because my dad had a business. And back in the day,

they had state run liquor stores. So you had to literally go to a state run liquor store to get

your, you know, your, they had like a number and it was on the seal and the whole bit. And so my

dad had a business. So he had, um, he had a bar and it was like, he had the two ham signs. It

was Redwood. It was half round. It was, I love that bar in the basement. It was awesome. But,

you know, John would come and he was the town drunk and he would get a bottle and I would tell

my dad he was there. Cause if he wasn't there, then I would get two bottles. I would tell my

dad, John borrowed two bottles, you know? So I always got a bottle. I dug it when John came by

and my dad wasn't home. And, um, I hope I remember to tie up that story about John too, because,

um, man, you just never know how the ripples are going to connect. You just,

don't know how the tapestry is going to be woven back here so that it looks good on the other

side. Oh my. But yeah. Um, after, um, just being in blackouts and I was on my way to Hawaii and I

was, had become unemployable in the French quarter with the local bars and we all knew each other

and nobody had a bad attitude. So I got fired from the last one. And so I was on my way to

Hawaii. I ended up, um, with, uh,

a cocktail waitress job on La Cienega Boulevard. Cause I got stuck here because my traveling

companion, I think came out of a blackout and went, oh no, uh, I'll go, I'm going to the bathroom.

Never came back. Um, and, and they asked me to leave after, like, I couldn't remember where the

drinks went. I was standing in the middle of the dance floor going, I didn't know. And the owner,

whoever he was, had to come up to me and take the drinks and say, you know, we're going to pay her

for the night. Please don't come back. And I had, um, my gallbladder removed. I had a

pancreas removed. Um, and I had, um, I had my gallbladder removed. I had pancreas removed. I had

pancreatitis. I had spots on my face. I don't know if they were liver spots or not, but I had

spots on my face. Um, I had, there were, I mean, I'm a blackout drinker. I'm, you know, I'm sure

I had a lot of fun in a lot of my blackouts, but I would come to in places I didn't know people and

who I was with and why they were mad at me. And that was, uh, my drinking. And I had become,

I had no place to live. And sometimes somebody would give me a bed or a floor to sleep on.

Um, I drank at Barney's Beanery, the rain check room, after hours places. Um, I had to get to the

liquor store before it was white when Cal Worthington came on that little black and white

TV of the floor I was sleeping on. This girl let me sleep on her floor for about a week. And it was

that the liquor store was forever away. And I was like paranoid. I was afraid to go outside. I was,

it's, you know, I got to go to the liquor store. It's dark. I have to go to the liquor store. And

I would like hide in the bushes and all the way. It just seemed like it was such a trek, but it was,

I drove by it. It was two doors down. I drove by it and survived. It was two doors down

and it was the biggest trek in the world to get from that floor to get my booze, to get back so I

could keep passing out. And every time I'd come to, it seemed like she was moving out. Then pieces

were gone. Like, you know, things were gone. And, uh, she had, um, been an in and out member of

Alcoholics Anonymous. And when I was sitting in Barney's Beanery one night, um, they took away

her keys and she was getting, I guess her court card signed because people were passing it down

the bar, signing it. And, you know, and he said, you're not going to drive drunk to your AA meeting.

So I called a taxi, took away her keys and, and we all gave her a toast as she went out the door,

go for your crush, go to AMA, you know, and I, she had the big book. I'm 180 pounds of bloated,

toxic, blech, just, I didn't take care of myself. Um, I had a red dashiki, a Panama hat and a book,

Be Here Now by Baba Ram Dass in my backpack. And that's about it. And that's, uh, when I ended up

getting on a motorcycle with some people going out to the desert. And we stopped a couple, a couple of

places and I guess I ended up in a nightclub in a blackout. And I guess I ended up with these guys

that, uh, you know, did me some big harm. And I don't remember much about that night. I remember

coming to, and I remember I stopped screaming. I stopped fighting for my life and I hadn't done

that before. And, uh, you know, back in the day we hitchhiked north, south, east, west,

all over the place. I drove drunk all over the place. Um, I, I think it was up,

up in West Hollywood. I did rear end a couple of cars and my bumper got stuck, so I couldn't leave.

Right. You know, my bumper's stuck on their bumper. So I'm jumping up and down trying to

get my bumper undone. There's people looking out the window. So I, I take a piece of paper and I

pretend like I'm writing a note and I put it on the window. It's nothing. It's a blank piece of

paper. And this older couple, um, asked me if I was okay. I was really drunk, but they let me come

up and I called the red and white cab comp, comping out. And if anybody remembers them, but, um,

you could get anything from the red and white cab company. They were like the number to call for

anything you wanted to take or anything. So they came and unhooked my car and got me away because

it was still drivable. And, and I remember my early sobriety when I had a car, one of my first

cars that was sitting on the street. And I woke up one morning, I looked and it was all meshed.

I thought, okay, now I know how they felt. You know, I just, I couldn't get mad. You know,

it's just, uh, it wasn't.

Payback. It was just, okay, now I know how they felt. Right. So, um, yeah, I, I ended up in the

hospital and I ended up at a guy's place that said I could stay with him. Then I had to go to court.

They caught these two guys and I just, I wasn't, I was wired up for sound and I had a tooth kicked

out. So I would drink this cheap wine that he'd buy me before I go to work through the wires of

my mouth where the tooth had been. And I would sit there and drink wine for, I think it was about a

week. I'm trying to think of how long it was.

It was about a week. And, um, I was exhausted and I was very rummy cause I had been concussioned.

And, and one day he came and he said, you know, you got to leave. You're depressing me.

I was like, I had nowhere to go, nowhere to go. So, um, I called my mom collect and my mom had

found out I was okay. And then she didn't go to try to save me, you know, the two,

after two days of calling hospitals. And I called my mom on August 20th, 1975. And there used to be

a speaker around called Norm Alpe. I don't know if you remember Norm Alpe, any of you, but he used

to talk about seconds and inches. And when he said that, I was like, oh, I get it. It's by seconds

and inches that we're here. It's just by just that left turn instead of a right turn, just meeting

that person, just being that tired that day, just grasping at actually calling somebody, showing

whatever it is. It's just by seconds and inches that we are the lucky ones to be here. I think

about the ones that don't get to be here and what a gift it is to actually be a part of it. And I

want to be able to come here and sit with you and to have this program be a place that makes sense

for me, a place that I don't get the world out there. You know, I mean, if I had a billion

dollars, I'd be doing all kinds of work out there doing as much as I could to, I wouldn't, I wouldn't

care at all if I'm driving an old car, if I had that money to go help the world in any way possible,

but I would come sit in my Alcoholics Anonymous meeting because you're my people.

This is where it makes sense. This is where I get to hear chapter five and remember,

that I'm an alcoholic no matter what, that, you know, the cucumber has become the pickle. There's

no turning back ever. I take one drink and I don't, I start in a ditch. I start in a ditch.

There's no pretty glasses. And I mean, we all, I mean, we all have it. We share that like the

drunk dreams. I remember when I had drunk dreams, my sponsor said, well, drinking people don't have

drunk dreams. Oh, okay. I guess I'm sober. I'm having a drunk dream, you know? So that made

sense to me. And I was walking by a bar, maybe it was about eight years ago. And somebody said,

here's your apple martini. I went, you know, I'd never, you know, so it's, it's, it's like that

reptilian brain, man. It remembers back down there what it's like, you know, it still remembers that

little, that little part of our reptilian brain, I believe is saturated, you know, and it's just,

oh, but we come in here and we, we, you know, we, we get what we need to go out again in the world

that I don't understand. And I get to connect with you and just one phone call my friend, Sandy B,

Sandy B.

She's not with us anymore. He used to talk about, man, back in the day, they had one meeting a week.

Those people had to connect with each other. They had to find God. It was like they had

one meeting a week. So they were like finding each other and going to weeding gardens together,

but they hung together. And I just think it's like, there's, you know, some, you talked about

being in the valley meetings. There's one down the street. There's one over there. There's one

upstairs. There's so many meetings here. It's, we're so lucky. My husband used to say you can

parachute in anywhere in the world, find an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. You'll find the

best place to eat. You'll find, you know, the best place to go get a deal. You know what I mean? And

when the meetings are and, and you've got a new friend to go have coffee with. What a fellowship

we have, you know, but I have to, you know, I have to know too that, that I have to have my

spiritual awakening in good shape. I have to have had that spiritual awakening and keep it in good

shape because life will throw it at you. It just is. It's the way it is.

Never heard anyone say to anybody in Alcoholics Anonymous, oh, we don't stay sober through that.

So you got to leave. Never heard that said here. There's always somebody we can find

that will help you walk through some tough stuff. Yeah. Because it's the language of the heart.

And when I sat in my first meeting, it was August 20th. My mother said,

Sharon, I can't help you anymore. Go to the Salvation Army. And if mother would have sent

$20, you'd have another speaker, seconds and inches. And I called that girl, Chris,

she was nice to me. She let me sleep on the floor. She was the one in the bar. I'm not relating any

of this. I just called her because she was nice to me and I needed a place to stay. She was dating

the guy that let me sleep on his couch because I had nowhere to go. And she said, I, I know what

happened to you. I know where you belong, but I can't help you today. Something like that because

she was drinking that day and she didn't make it. She was 31 when she died here, but she was there

for me that day. And I, she said, you got to call this lady named Suzanne. I called a total stranger.

I don't call strangers and ask for help, but I don't call strangers. And she said, I don't call strangers.

I didn't talk. First three months in AA, that's what you had. You didn't ask me, how are you? You

just said, oh, you look tired. I mean, how could you tell? I was beaten up and bruised up and

couldn't talk. And I looked at, I didn't look up and I hadn't probably bathed or I detoxed in the

room. Took me to one, somebody took me to one 12 step house and the lady took one look at me and

went, no. I was like, I didn't even feel rejected. It was like, I don't care. You know, it's just

like I had like, I was kind of bored. I was like, I don't care. I don't care. I don't care. I don't

of any sort of caring. And so I sat with you and you, you let me, I met the son of a woman who was

very good to me when I was new, who died of alcoholism. And I did get to go see her in

Atlanta and thank her. She, she couldn't sleep and I'm like, and you know, I can't eat, you know,

so we go to the coffee shop and she'd have coffee and I'd sit there and then we would drive around

the car until she would practically run out of gas until we would stop at these on ramps where

there would be nobody.

Back in 75, there were nobody on some of the freeways at night and we would just look at

everything and she'd pontificate and then we'd get back in the car and she was really good to me.

And we went to her son's house so I could have a place to stay. And he got either kicked out or

had to pay three times the rent. And he said, I didn't know this. We were having, we were having

dinner and he said, you were sitting in my, my, my room. I was talking to my mother and you were

playing my guitar and you broke the string and you started to sob. So sobbing. And he said,

I said something like, I can't do it.

You know, I mean, oh man, he wasn't somebody that was going to be able to be a vibrant member

of society. If you took a look at me that day, I'll tell you. But slowly, slowly, slowly with

a lot of love, not even knowing I was getting it. A sponsor, I moved up to her couch when I

got a sponsor. Get a sponsor, your life gets better. She made me say a little prayer at night

because I was staying, she said, you're staying at my house. I want you to say a prayer at night.

So I had this bar.

I had this borrowed sleeping bag. I would slide out of the borrowed sleeping bag under the floor

at maybe about one, two in the morning when the whole house was quiet because I didn't want

anybody to know I was praying, especially God, especially God. I had left him in the church in

Cedar Rapids, Iowa with my one fingered peace sign because the priest and I were having a huge

discussion about some sort of politics. I like to get people mad and go, see, look at you,

look at you. You're a hypocrite. I was really good at that. And that's,

that's what I did to my dad. My dad would say, what is wrong with you? You want to know? I'll tell

you. And I'll tell you everything that dad shouldn't know about their girls that he, I had

to go through. You want to know all this? And he would just set his jaw at, cause I wouldn't let him

help me. And, um, wow. So that first inventory was tough. That first inventory was tough. Um,

and, uh, but there was a girl that was, there was a girl that came to the program eight days after

me. Her name is Pat Wai. She used to be married to Vivi. He was, she was married to Vivi. She was,

she was married to Vince Wai who passed away a few years ago. But Pat came in eight days after me,

stole my thunder. Like I had some, right. I'm the, you know, I was the one passed along,

but I was passed along to the second string. It felt like, uh, people watching me, you know,

and Pat had all the first string, all the lipstick and the pretty clothes around her. And it seemed

like to me, um, that she cried all the time. She just cried all the time. And so she took away a

lot of my, um, my, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um, um,

attention. And like I, like I had a lot. And so they would say, oh, look at Pat. She's done

her inventory already. And I was like, oh, Pat's doing her amends. And I would just like, oh,

and it seemed like in, you know, when they would read chapter five, she'd look at me like,

I know you haven't done yours. I've done mine. I'm amends. You know, she'd look had that,

I'm better than you, like thin little blue lip kind of look like,

hmm.

Seemed like that's what she would say.

was thinking. And, um, so I almost got drunk and I was back in Palm Springs at the, they used to

have the roundup or what it was called that Chuck C and Johnny Harris put on. And it was in Palm

Springs at the Riviera. And I was there and it was, uh, I was like having like, not flashbacks,

but I was having like, I ran into my detective. I ran into the place, they drove by the place

where it happened. It was just like, ah, so, you know, 10 months sober, I'm like, not very well

wrapped yet. And I haven't done my inventory, right? So I'm having this moment Saturday night

and I run up to this girl in our group and hug her and she says, oh, my sunburn, you know,

and it's just like, that's it. I go buy some vodka. That's it. And I'm on my way. I can see

the liquor store out that door across the street and I'm on my way to get some vodka. And there

was a guy in our group named Duke. I don't know if anybody remembers Duke G, but he was, he was

the kind of guy that kind of just, he just watched people and he'd stand, a very kind man.

He was watching what was going on, I guess. Thank goodness. And I'm, I'm headed out the door and he

just kind of took me and brought me back in. He said, what's going on? And then of course I broke

and I cried and told him and he said, go get the vodka. Then you'll have less time than Pat.

That woman kept me sober that night, kept me sober that night. And every August we still get

to share birthdays, but I have those eight days that are still, you know. So I finally did it,

went home.

Made the amends. I was home for like 10 days. It was really good with my mom, with my dad. I hadn't

done it, hadn't done it, hadn't done it. I mean, my dad and I hadn't sat down in the same breakfast

table for years. My dad and I hadn't ridden in the same car. There was never anything physical

between us, but you could cut the emotional pain if you sat in a room with us and we didn't look

at each other and we didn't converse with each other. When, when I would have a little sojourn

coming home, my mother would say, all right, but stay out of your dad's way because you break his

heart. Yeah, thanks. You know.

Which I did. And we ended up finally putting the bags in the car, going back to the airport,

coming back to LA. I know that sponsor intimidated me and she would send me back on a plane if I

hadn't done it. Thank goodness for intimidating sponsors. She was kind of wacky. She left like

a duck. I could always tell when she was in the room and I felt safe when I could hear her quack,

quack, quack. Oh, she's here. You know, it used to be embarrassing. Like I wasn't an embarrassing

looking baby for first three months, you know, like, ugh.

But, you know, she was, I always felt safe when she was, I could hear her in the room and I hadn't

realized I hadn't felt safe in a long time. Just little things like that, that we hand over to

King Alcohol, you know, just so it keeps working just because it's my running buddy, just because

it's with me. And it's the only thing that, that I think understood me. And so, yeah, I just made

those amends and I'm glad I did because my dad and I had a really good relationship. It took a while.

Um,

to see it. I know it's there. Thank you. There.

I know it's there. Um, so yeah, my, um, my, it makes me nervous. My, um, my dad,

you're not gonna turn it off, are you? The torture, torturing me here. Um, um,

you remember when they opened the door and it was nighttime? I don't know if you know,

like the French quarters 24 seven, we painted the windows black and somebody opened the door

and the lights, the sun had come up, the lights were on, the sun was up. Ah,

it's just like that. So, um, anyway, my dad was killed in 99 and we had gone full circle and I had

made my financial amends to my dad, uh, with my sponsor was another woman that said, you know,

are you willing to grow through this with your dad? What's growth of this? My dad, we've already,

I've already called him. He read the big book and he walked me down the aisle. He read the big book

at, you know, he knew that I was going to have to make financial amends and he had already run

the calculator tape. So I, I, she said, are you willing to grow through this? She wanted,

she wanted me to send the check on time every month because Bill and Bob are watching. She said,

and she made me put a note with that check about my life. I have a Mensa older sister retired at

50, a millionaire. I have a brother who's got a doctorate. I've got nurse Sally who got a four

year nursing degree, moved to Alaska and has a beautiful life, had the horse, the ponytail,

you know, and then there was me. So what am I going to tell dad about the jail panel I went on?

You know what? But anyway, I did that check and that note, she said, insisted,

said, yes, yes, I sent it. Yes, I sent it. Check of the note for almost five years.

And we grew in that time without even knowing we grew. I had a trip home at least once a year.

We had a root beer together and we sat at a picnic table on a summer night and my legs were swinging

like a little girl, just having a talk with dad. I didn't know, I didn't know that the innocence

was going to come back. And when, um, you know, when my dad was, he called me the day after

Christmas, he said, Merry Christmas. I don't want your money anymore, but don't stop sending me your

notes. And it was, you know, I didn't know that the innocence was going to come back. And when,

um, I sent it. I sent it. I sent it. I sent it. I sent it. I sent it. I sent it. I sent it. I sent it.

And it was, um, a beautiful moment for both of us. So, uh, yeah, he got killed on an accident on his

land and, um, we were good. We were good. 99 that happened. And my mother, uh, my mother, uh, was

brave and AA was there and my mother moved up to Madison, Wisconsin. And, um, I'm going back

Wednesday to see my brother and his family and lay on the lake and have some time. And, but my mom,

my mom was fabulous.

So strong and so beautiful and loved all of you so much. Um, she would always say,

how were you received? I'd say, I gotta go talk somewhere, mom. Okay. And then she'd say,

how were you received? Were you well received? You know, and she always said, now remember your

propers and thank the people. Um, and she came and sat with you and she came to my 40th birthday.

And, um, no, it was my, it wasn't my 30th. My gosh. Yeah. Time flies. Wow. You know, um, I'm,

I don't know how I can be 40 years sober. I'm just 50 years old. I swear to God.

I'm claiming 55 cause I feel it. Uh, but a lot's happened. A lot's happened. I married the man and

I got divorced with my husband who had the newcomer. It's a long story. Um, my mother told

me after my dad had the big book and, you know, had done the calculator tape and I had made those

amends that he, he called, um, he, no, the, the John, the town drunk came to my dad and complained

about his wife. And my dad said to John, it's not Mary's fault. You're in trouble. He's in trouble.

You're an alcoholic. Go to AA. It's helped my daughter. Maybe it'll help you. And gave him the

book. So my dad, um, 12 step John because of you. And when I was talking in thousand Oaks years ago

now, a girl came up to me that looked very familiar. And I talked about John that night

cause I think my mother just told me, I mean, I didn't know this when my dad was alive. My mom

told me after and she came up and she looked familiar. And I said, hi. And she said, do you

remember me? I'm Lizzie. I'm so-and-so you used to bait babysit me. And from Liz,

he's been Iowa. And I went, oh yeah, sorry about the pot. Why, you know, I smoked pot when I

babysat. And then I drank when the parents came home, we had drink or two together. But, um, she

said, you know, you talked about my uncle John, he's still sober. And I was like, wow, that's

great. She said, and I went home for a family reunion two years ago and my uncle John 12 step

me and I have two years. So you just never know what your actions mean, what your amends mean,

what just living life right there,

being a child of God. Chuck's used to talk about that, that, you know, we love because we want to

love for fun and for free. Uh, it's not 50, 50, 70, 30, it's a thousand to nothing. You've given

me my life. You gave me my husband. I had him for 24 years, my man, Casey and, um, good man,

really good man, good member of AA, lovely. And I held him on his last moments eight years ago

when he had megaloma melanoma and my mother four years ago, I held my mommy and, um,

a couple of cats, a dog, you know, I mean, you know, it's just, uh, I've taken my husband all

over the world. There's a lot of ashes to a human being. I got the bungee jump with him in New

Zealand. I went out of a plane. He was at the top of the Eiffel tower, other, uh, Australian,

New Zealand, you know, and just under a koala bear. And I mean, at the golf course, he was a

big golfer where he got his Eagle and winged foot, uh, just so much. He got handed over in a bar in

London from one AA to another during the Olympics. So he could go to this, this,

this golf place that his, it was in the, where his mother grew up and do his ashes. I got pictures

of that happening. And, um, freedom's just another word for nothing left to lose. I had nothing left

to lose when I came here. I used to live by that. I have so much love in my heart for what you have

done for my family, for my friends, for the people I've hurt. I got to make amends to the carnival.

I don't want to forget that. My son went, my son went to a Catholic school where they have

a school carnival every spring. And I volunteered for eight years.

And I paid back those kids and I bought ride tickets and the universe will find your way.

And you'll get to walk a free man and a free woman. And this program is about love. Thank you.