the sweet and touching version

From my inbox, the sweet and touching version:

Lurking With Intent (day 32): “Nice to hear your voice on the phone this morning… What you are providing people is mentoring/sponsorship and accountability as you say. You are the higher power many people seek in early sobriety. Now don’t let that go to your head. Humility is what keeps us sober. We can’t do this alone. I just have to keep hammering home the point that it’s the first drink for me that does the damage. Normies don’t get that cuz they can take or leave the first drink. How do they do that? Thanks for all you do.” [he’s now on day 37]

me: “thanks for this : ) you’re very sweet.  I won’t let it go to my head. I know that talking to you keeps me sober. all best, me”


Nowinemom (day 142): “Last night I went to a surprise birthday dinner for a dear friend.  There were about 10 women there, and we all have been close friends for 15 years.  One of our friend’s husband was diagnosed with [degenerative illness] last September, and this was the first time she has felt like socializing with us — it was good to see her.  She just kept saying, “Live fully every day because you just don’t know about tomorrow.”  We went through 8 bottles of San Pelligrino and one bottle of wine.  Only a few people even wanted wine. Wine just erases time … I loved having AUTHENTIC conversations with friends … We can’t get those days back.  Take care, and thank you for giving life back to so many.”


Shell Bell (day 67): “Did i tell you that i am glad you stopped drinking, because if that never happened, i probably wouldn’t have stopped drinking… i love your month 5 blog post. It hit home, i am having a blast being sober. No quams, no fits of jealousy, no bitter out bursts to my kids…. I love it all!  So thank you for being sober, there is a saying that goes like this, ” you become like those you are with.” I really enjoy being part of your sober friendship community!!!!! It rubbed off on me!


Rae (day 37): “Alcohol isn’t real. It places us in a realm that doesn’t exist, a place where we know neither genuine sorrow or joy.”