Seventeen years

Yesterday was the 17th anniversary of my first A.A. meeting, which marked the beginning of my current spell of continuous sobriety. I can't say I celebrated, because I was too busy doing things that are little more than the blessings of a sober life:

• Took my car in to have the oil changed and the engine light checked—I not only have a driver's license, I also have a car
• Worked—I am employable today
• Chaired a meeting of the local chapter of a professional organization—not only employed, but on the Board of Directors and also Program Chair
• Attended a funeral

The funeral, ironically enough, was for Bumblebee, someone I sponsored for a while. I suspect I was his last sponsor. I hadn't seem him in at least a year, and sometimes wondered if he named me when asked if he had a sponsor. Then I would wonder if he was even making meetings.

Apparently not. He was definitely out there. He committed suicide by stabbing himself to death in the parking lot of the apartment complex where he lived. In the femoral artery. Thank you, Bumblebee, for keeping it green for me on my anniversary.

Tonight I will celebrate with dinner and a meeting! Praise HP, from whom all blessings flow!