I have been in recovery for many years. I never felt like I “had it made” but I was enjoying the peaceful contentment that comes with this way of life, when my emotions were shaken up with the news that my older brother had died. We were estranged, and although I had tried to reconcile with him over the past several years, I was unsuccessful. I was not notified of his death until about six weeks after his passing. I later found out that he had asked his hospice caretaker to try and locate me during the last few weeks, but his memory was failing him and he didn’t pass along my married name.

When I finally got the news, I felt a wide range of emotions: intense sadness, guilt, anger, and resentment. I felt like I was on a child’s roller coaster of ups and downs. Thank God for my tools: I used the phone to talk about my feelings, writing to get clarity around our childhood years,  quiet time to sit with my feelings, and of course weighing and measuring my food to keep me sane enough to allow me to weigh and measure everything else.

Now, I am in the process of settling up his affairs, visiting the area where he lived and hopefully touching base with his hospice caretakers, co-workers, friends, and in-laws. I’ll be able to visit the National Cemetery where his ashes were interred, and I will receive a U. S. Flag that was part of the Military Honors Service. I believe this will help me to have closure around his passing.

I am so grateful I can show up in a normal size body and know that it’s not all about me. I don’t have to fear meeting new people or visiting his in-laws. I can ask questions about issues where I don’t have experience, and I can trust in the process.

And to think this all started with my willingness to go to a meeting and work this program of recovery, one day at a time.