A Story of Recovery:

Identifying Hope

I recently drove to visit with family and friends and to attend my high school reunion. I enjoy the privilege of having both Canadian and American citizenship and carry passports issued by both countries.

When I arrived at the border, I was lucky enough to drive directly up to the booth. This is a rare occurrence. Usually there is a long line of waiting cars. I was very excited thinking I was going to zip right through and be on my way.

I handed the customs officer my American passport and that’s when my plans of zipping right through the border came to a halt. I haven’t had a passport photo taken since I came into FA four-and-a-half years ago. In that time, I have lost 250 pounds. He looked at my photo; looked at me; looked at my photo; looked at me and asked, “Is this your passport?” I told him I had lost a lot of weight and assured him it was my passport. He told me he was sorry but he couldn’t make the connection between the face in the photo and my face so I would have to go inside and show other identification. Well, my hopes of an easy crossing were slowly being dashed.

I headed inside and was greeted by a female customs officer. When she asked why I was there, I told her that her colleague wasn’t comfortable with the way I looked presently compared to my passport photo. She looked at my passport and said she agreed. “That’s quite a leap!” She asked how much weight I had lost. “Wow! I could lose a few pounds,” she said, and then asked if I had any other photo ID. The first thing I gave her was my Canadian passport. She still wasn’t satisfied. I then showed her my driver’s license and my health card. She said these two were better, but certainly not great.

I really wanted to get on the road and was wondering how much longer I was going to be questioned when I remembered I had a trifold in my purse, which had my name and phone number on it as a web and directory contact person. I handed her the trifold, pointing out my name and telephone number, and told her that this was how I had lost my weight. I said she could phone anyone on that list and someone would vouch for me. She chose not to make that call and told me I could be on my way. She asked if she could keep the trifold. “Of course,” I said over my shoulder as I was running out the door, anxious to get back on the road.

Later that week I received a phone call from her. She wanted to know more about FA, as she has a sister who has been steadily gaining weight, is obese, and had just that morning been diagnosed with Type 2 Diabetes. She wanted to know if it would be okay if she gave my name and phone number to her sister. “She really needs help,” she said.

I heard from the sister two days later. She was interested in hearing about my journey and said she was going to go to a meeting to check it out. I don’t know how this story will end. I hope she will go to a meeting. I hope she finds the willingness that was bestowed on me.

Whether she is ready today, next week, next month, or next year, she now knows there is a solution.

I admit I was impatient at the border crossing. I just wanted to get where I was going, but my Higher Power had different plans. Perhaps those fifteen minutes of my time will have helped another addict find her way to recovery. I can add that to my list of all the things I’m grateful for thanks to FA!