Some say it takes a village to raise a child.
It took EX to raise me into a 2 years smober person.
Was it hard? Not as hard as I thought it would be. Was it easy? I’d lie if I say yes.
It was something I had to do if I wanted to grow old enough to see my grand-kid (if my son would ever decides to give me one).
And then I have people, and furry kids depending on me.
So I had to make a decision, I made it, felt losing my resolve at the end of one month, and then I came here.
And there were many arms to break my fall, and get me back up on my feet, and looking in the right direction.
Guiding me every time my sight was clouded by the addiction, caring, administering a dose of reality, a dose of laugh, or love, every time I needed it.
We’ve lost people here, they were friends, or husbands of friends, and even if there were not family, the loss felt much like it. Because being here united by the same objective, we become vulnerable, we open up about ourselves, and we know we’ll get the support we need.
We’ve been through fires, and cancers, and surgeries, and heart attacks, and hurricanes, and we learned to get through it all as EX. I learned here how to be a person without smoking, which I had forgotten over 40 years ago.
So if there is something to say for my second quitaversary, it is Thank You for being My Village