It was sometime in the early 80’s. I was 21 years old; I had six months clean; I was separated from my 1st wife; and I was sleeping on my Sponsor’s couch. I was also working the steps; I was attending meetings; I was doing service in NA; and I was trying to change my life.
And even though my EX had forced me to go to NA, she didn’t really want me to change; she just wanted me to stop drinking all the booze in the house. Recovery, didn’t really work for her.
My sponsor had a roommate who I’ll call James. James had a few years clean; was freshly out of the navy, single and trying to sleep with as many women as possible. Seriously, he was trying some kind of experiment where he wanted to find out how many of the women he met—would come to bed with him.
One night, I had worked and couldn’t make it to a meeting; so I was just sitting alone on my sponsor’s couch doing about the worst thing a newly recovering addict could do–I was thinking (about the collapse of my marriage and how I was going to miss my baby son).
Suddenly, James came home with another new young woman in tow. They were laughing and giggling, and basically went straight up the stairs to his room. I gave them both a nod as they passed, and they gave me a nod back as well.
About one minute later, James came back down the stairs. He came and sat with me on the couch. He didn’t even say a word, he just hugged me. I was on the verge of tears anyway, but then he asked me the weirdest and most amazing thing I’d ever heard. He wondered, “What does that sound like?”
The sobbing didn’t start right away, but it didn’t take long. It started with a few choking breaths.
He asked me again, “What does that sound like?”
That was it; the downpour began. I cried. I sobbed. I wept. I choked on my own tears and snot. I exploded all over his shoulder. And he just held me.
I couldn’t believe that a man, who had just brought home a willing new friend, would take time out to hug me while I cried my eyes out. But he did.
Then, after a while (he didn’t rush me at all), I finally could breathe again. He got me a paper towel, and I cleaned up the mess that was my face.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes, better.”
“Okay then. I’m going back upstairs?”
“Thank you.”
James is still one of my very best friends in the world. He just celebrated 41 years clean, and he taught me the lesson of one addict helping another in an amazingly powerful way.
He just cared.
He noticed me—and that I was in trouble; and he gave me his time.
Somehow he knew that the solution I needed was to let it all out, and he helped me to do that.
Recovery is a whole new way of life, and it offers a way of living that is better than I could have ever dreamed.
Dune C. 