[purepisces]

Originally Posted by Tommi

I am writing my Christmas letter and posting it here, because it seems a likely meeting place.

Happy Holidays it says on all the windows, and read in all the cards...I enjoy this season for so many reasons, and am sober and sane enough to live and love, and recall many miracles. Jan. 7, I celebrate many sober years, but for now, the Christmas magic is at hand, and I recall the wonder of my miraculous childhood.

When I was a little dyke/tyke only child of the alcoholic parents, I got everything I wanted...except a sober holiday..I escaped into Plasticville USA, the twinking bubble lights on a huge tree, and the sound of the midnight train I steered around the living room.......

My memory bank floods with the wonder of Christmas Eve, when my Uncle Donny morphed into Santa Claus ( he never fooled this precocious kid).We would travel from one house to the next watching the younger cousins, the aunts and uncles open their presents, in a caravan progression that ended at our house. Grownups toasting the seasonal favorite toddy.

All the family gathered for a midnight dinner prepared by my Gramma, and then the magic of Christmas took me away. To the little town my Mom and I had created unter the big tree that dad had planted firmly on the 4 X 8 plywood platform in the corner of our living room

Everyone gathered around our Christmas tree. I engineered the Lionel trains dodging through snow covered tunnels, corning around the Plasticville town. Letting the cousins blow the horn and raise and lower the lights of the Main Street USA village, I was in charge..

The family would all leave, the treelights would be tuned off, and then the parental fireworks would begin. I retreated to my room, and wondered if she would be alive Christmas morning.

I vowed to never pick up a drink, but, I did..and it took no time at all to raise the Rum and Coke toast at Christmas Eve with my Mom, aka Big Butch(who came out when I was 17) and our "chosen family". We moved 3, 000 miles from home, no twinkiling lights, no train and no raging alcoholic father. We drank together, we double dated, we went to Hollywood and did things I don't post about.

Then the miracle happened right after a drunken Christmas and New Year's eve. My Mom went into rehab. I visited her, attended Al Anon, and knew, I needed to be in the other rooms too. We finally were able to enjoy every day, and night, a chance to love and live a rewarding and sober life before she passed away.

Tonite, I open presents, toast with Diet Coke, and celebrate the miracles of the season, and being sober for over 30 years.

Against all odds, miracles do happen.

Have a very Merry Christmas and a sober new year,

Tommi

Wow, Tommi! That is quite a story ... AND a happy ending. Wonderful to read about the journey you and your mom took together. Thank you for sharing it with us.

I'm happily enjoying my own sober Christmas tonight.

Merry Christmas to you and Sherrie!!!

p.s. It snowed here today!!!