3,653 Days

What a difference a day or 3,652 can make. Tonight, I had an experience that I never dreamed was possible. Let's just say that miracles were abounding. In my wildest imagination, I never dreamed that I would sit in a recovery meeting with my amazing, beautiful and gracious 15 year old and have her say, "Hi, I'm Anna Jane and I am grateful for my mom."

Since my first sobriety birthday, I have asked someone who has played a special part in the previous year to go with me to pick up my birthday chip. Of course, the list is far from exhaustive, as the numerous faces that have made my journey all that it is today cannot be represented in 10 coins. More than anything, I have tried to choose people who have said or done things that in that year directly reassured me that I was enough.

As I was preparing for my 10th birthday, it seemed heavy. Somehow a decade of sobriety brought on feelings of weight in the best way possible. As I reflected on who I wanted to take this year, there was one name that just kept coming to my mind. It somehow seemed like a full circle moment, as AJ and I have come to a place where we honestly talk about all things recovery. She knows my story. For the parts that she does not remember, she now is of an age where we openly talk about what it was like, what happened and what it is like now.

So tonight, AJ drove me to my birthday meeting. As we walked in the club she reminded me of what it was like to come here when she was 5 and scared of the babysitting room. As we sat in the room before the meeting, she read the signs on the walls and realized where the language that I use in everyday life is learned. She had never been to a meeting, and I was so thankful that tonight's book study focused in the 4th step, which is making a "searching and fearless moral inventory." Somehow it just seemed so right for her to hear about something that was so hard for her mom, but that without a doubt has saved her life and sanity time and time and time again.

One tradition that I love at this particular meeting is that as we close we each take a moment to express something that we are grateful for. As we went around the table, I leaned over to her and said, you don't have to speak if you don't want to. She did. And the joy and relief and gratitude that I experienced in that moment was wrapped up with 10 years of a life changing hard work.

And then we made it to birthday chips. It was a gift that one of my long time heroes handed me my chip tonight. I love that she knew me from day one and reminded me of the journey. As she tells the story, I was folded up like an envelope in my chair when she met me. The fear gremlins were in full effect and yet her kindness and encouragement has not changed one bit from that first meeting. She has been a witness to the transformation, and as I look back, so have I.

The chip that I picked up tonight is depicted in the picture at the top of this post. My amazing SIL created a personalized card for me this year with the chip on the front. As I reflect on the journey, I am beyond thankful for those that have been there with me. Some from day 1 and some that have come into my life since then. For all those who have helped my envelope like legs fold to touch the floor and have encouraged me to keep growing and have offered support in ways that I didn't know to ask for, "thank you" is wildly insufficient.

I'll leave you with the image of AJ and I walking to the car after the meeting. As she walked, she grabbed my arm and said, "Mom, I am so proud of you." Drop the mic.