I was four years into FA when my mother had double knee-replacement surgery. I flew from California to Boston in February to help her and help care for my father who has advanced Alzheimer’s. It was one of the most challenging times I’ve had in Program and one of the most rewarding. To this day, I marvel that I continued to work my tools and didn’t eat.
Traveling is always a challenge for me, but the emotional demands, short timeframe, and freezing cold weather made it worse. I arrived on a red eye and went straight to my mom who had just gotten out of rehab and was staying at a friend’s house, because it would have been too hard on her and my dad to be at home. When I arrived, she held me and cried. I’d never seen my tough mother like this. It was hard to see her in such pain. She was so grateful that I’d come. I spent the day helping her start her physical therapy, singing familiar family songs to keep her going (The Sound of Music, John Denver, old southern hymns), making cheerful conversation, and just being with her. In FA, I’ve learned to let my love show by just showing up.
After dinner, I left to go help my dad settle in for the night and be there to help him get ready in the morning to go to his adult day care. I’d prepared my meals for much of the trip, so my food was all set, but I realized I was going to need a few items for the next day. I was exhausted emotionally and physically. It was pitch black outside and freezing. Yet I stopped at the local grocery store on the way home and got what I needed. I remember sitting in the parking lot and marveling at the presence of God in my life. How else could I stay abstinent in this moment?
I had left my husband and daughter at home. My husband had just been fired from his job, and my daughter was recently diagnosed with special needs. I was feeling the feelings of sorrow for my mother’s pain and sadness at the loss of my dad to his illness, but I was grateful that I could show up for my mother in this way when she had done so much for me over the years. I was glad that I could show up for my dad and have some time alone with him to hold hands and look out the window at the squirrels, and to offer him some comfort in his perpetual disorientation.
I realized it was a “Don’t eat no matter what, no matter what, don’t eat” moment. Fortunately, the strength of the program, the “deposits in the bank” of the mornings of quiet time, calls with my sponsor and to fellows, the recovery I heard at meetings, the readings, and my gratitude for the life that I have when I don’t eat addictively, were carrying me through.
That night, after taking care of my dad, I made sure my food was ready for the next day. I did my tools and went to bed. Without the security and consistency of the tools, the fellowship, my sponsor, and Higher Power, I couldn’t have stayed abstinent. I think about how this would have gone if I hadn’t been in FA, when I was 5’4” tall and 226 pounds (102.5 kilos), on antidepressants and pre-diabetic. I was depressed, angry, and full of self-pity. I felt confused and like a victim. I would have been divorced from my husband, yelling at my kids, and full of self-pity and denial.
I am pretty sure I would not have made this trip at all. I don’t think I would have shown up for them. Then I would have missed out on the chance to connect with my family, to feel useful, to love and feel loved and grateful, and to have a sense of fulfilling God’s purpose for me. My life would have been so impoverished.
When I think about missing moments like this, I think of the abundance of joy and love I have today versus what my life was like before I found FA. I now weight between 121-124 pounds, am off antidepressants, and my blood work is excellent. My relationships are the best they have ever been. When life’s challenges have shown up during the past five years, I haven’t eaten flour and sugar. I am fundamentally happy and grateful.