A Story of Recovery:

Recovery Through Life’s Transitions

“Uncle Matt died.” I knew when my mother called me at 7 in the morning it would not be good news. Uncle Matt is one-half of my parents’ best friends, both of whom have known me since the day I was born. He and my father met on the first day of law school and formed an incredible bond that extended to their wives, each of them becoming the sister that neither had. They raised their children together and Matt and Judy’s three sons were surrogate cousins to me. The depth of my love for this entire family is profound, and the past week has shown that to me in remarkable ways.

With those three words, my world was rocked. I knew he had been very ill, with heart and kidney failure, and his short-term memory was shot. But no one expected his death so suddenly. There was no question that I would attend his funeral in Chicago. My husband and I were about to go on a one-week vacation to Florida, including a stop to see a dear FA friend in her seasonal home and a qualification at a meeting in Vero Beach. I can’t tell you how much I was looking forward to that trip and those visits. My family has always stressed the value of being present at important times for the ones you hold closest to you. And that ethos has been firmly cemented in this marvelous program of recovery. We SHOW UP in small, but crucial ways each and every day, for our sponsee and sponsor calls, at our meetings, on time, front and center. Showing up in the little ways helps prepare us for the critical moments. Jewish practices require an early burial, so within a few hours we understood our vacation had to be canceled. My surrogate uncle and his wife have shown such love and caring to me; that has reverberated throughout my family. My daughter insisted on flying from Baltimore to Chicago to join us. My son arranged to take a half-day off to attend the funeral. And my husband told me, “We are a team. I go where you go. This is the most important thing we need to do right now.”

I felt the presence of my higher power throughout the next few days. My husband took care of rebooking our airline trips. I was able to cancel our hotel reservations without penalty, including one inn that provided a full refund even though we were past the due date for cancellation. Our flights left and landed on schedule.

The funeral was scheduled for noon. I talked with my sponsor on how to handle my meals that day. The service at the funeral chapel would be followed by a cemetery visit. The civilians would be eating a big meal when they arrived at the Shiva (mourning) house at 3:30. I packed a lunch and ate it in the car after the cemetery visit. I waited for an appropriate interval and ate dinner after everyone else had eaten theirs. There was enough abstinent food to make a meal. But I wasn’t focused on the food. People who love me deeply and show it surrounded me. In the corner of my eye I noticed the trays of sweets and other binge foods that surrounded me, but they looked like plastic toys to me. There were hands going into bowls and platters, and plates piled high by the guests, but I concentrated on the conversation and the hugs and the tears and the memories.

Gratitude mixed with sorrow were the dominant emotions of the day: sadness over the loss of a very special man who loved me unconditionally, and a full appreciation that I am blessed to have such wonderful friendships in my life and a program of recovery that enables to me express my feelings instead of eating over them. Miracles abound.