A Story of Recovery:
I am Never Alone in FA
The plane had barely landed at the airport in Israel and I was already calling the hospital to check on my Dad. The hospital staff told me to come straight from the airport to the hospital. I got the first cab and headed to the hospital. When I got to the ward, they told me my Dad had just died a few minutes ago. The Nurse who told me the news told me to sit down and she got me some water. She also said that some things had to be taken care of right away and she handed me some forms that I needed to get signed that evening. My first thought was that I can’t do it, but G-d can, and I will let him.
At that time, I had been in program nearly ten years, and I had seven years of abstinence. I had given away around 100 pounds, and I had learned that “I don’t eat no matter what. No matter what, I do not eat,” even if my Dad just died.
I sank down on a nearby chair and gratefully drank the glass of water. I closed my eyes and asked G-d for help, and to please lead the way. I had no idea how to do this. I was tired, jet-lagged, scared, and sad. When I finished my prayer and my glass of water, I asked to see my Dad. I had a quiet time with my Dad and got to kiss him and thank G-d that he was no longer in pain. I asked to see the doctor in charge and thanked her for taking care of my Dad. I could hear what she said and the instructions she gave me. I left my suitcases with the staff and went to get all the forms signed.
It was a miracle that I was able to do everything I needed to do after that. I took the pile of forms from one office to another, made some very difficult decisions in very little time (as the funeral was to be held the next day), and as I walked through the darkened hospital hallways, I kept asking G-d for guidance. When I finished with one office, I asked for instructions about where to go next and how to get there. I finished my tasks and asked directions to the nearest taxi cab station.
The cab driver barely spoke at all and I was very quiet, too. But when he did speak, he said: “it does not matter what happens to us, what matters is how we interpret it.” He was talking about his experience, but it was what I needed to hear. I asked the driver to stop at a nearby market and I bought some food that I knew I would need. I arrived at my Dad’s place and, “first things first,” I ate my abstinent dinner that I had brought with me.
The next few days and weeks seem like a blur, but I lived through them and was able to do everything I needed to do, with G-d’s help. I had no idea how to make funeral arrangements, and it all had to be done within hours. But although I might not know how to plan a funeral, what I did know was that I needed to weigh and measure my food and stay abstinent.
During the first part of my three-week stay, I sat shivah, which means to observe an official mourning period of about six days. As a part of the mourning, I was told that I needed to follow specific rituals: I could not leave the house, cook, or bathe. Many people came to pay their respects. Everyone brought food, but mostly flour and sugar products that I could not eat. When they realized this, people offered to go shopping for me, and each day I was given exactly what I needed. A very distant family member showed up with a huge cooler filled with groceries, and cooked for me. When she left, my refrigerator was filled with abstinent food. I kept weighing my food, getting on my knees and praying, reading the readings, calling FA fellows (mostly leaving messages), and was so very grateful for calls and emails.
When I got back, many people asked me, “Were you there by yourself during this whole time?” However, I realized that I had never felt alone throughout my trip. I felt tired and sad, and I had a lot of meltdowns, but I also got to laugh and reminisce, and I never felt alone. I felt very close to the G-d of my understanding, and I was aware on so many levels that G-d was doing for me what I could not do for myself. That means that G-d pretty much did everything. All I could do was weigh and measure my food, pray, work my tools the best I could and leave the rest to my Higher Power.
This program gave me a design for living that has served me through both good and difficult times of life. “Not eating no matter what” is not only an FA slogan, it is my mantra. It is such a blessing to live in recovery and to know that I can be abstinent no matter what situations occur.