My dear friend and I lived our wild days in the era of Stayin’ Alive disco.
I don’t want to say I’m old… so I’ll let YOU say I’m old LOL.
We’ve known each other over FORTY YEARS … through college, through our get-through-college jobs, through all manner of boyfriends, and drinking shenanigans – into our so-called adult lives. We’ve now arrived in one piece at our Third Age.
I love “the bones” of her, as they say in Ireland – she is the kind of friend that time and distance matter not. We pick up wherever we left off when we infrequently meet. We have the secret language you have with dear friends where a single line, a well-placed word – or silly face – can have you rolling on the floor while those around you are oblivious.
I’m currently visiting my family, and she and her husband stopped by for a quick visit. We were talking about various mundane and social stuff, and one of the things I mentioned to her is that I have stopped drinking. She said she will always want her wine. I felt like I had just been shot from a cannon backwards into the stratosphere. For some reason it just hit me so hard that I won’t ever have a boozy night with her again. I felt such regret, loss of youth, loss of my wine!
My friend managed to get through all those years without an addiction problem. She’s a one, maybe two, glass of wine kind of gal now. Me, however, well I didn’t get away lightly. It’s much more significant that I am no longer drinking. A much bigger ‘thing’ to accomplish and stick to.
I have bottles of California wine in my luggage waiting to take back to a friend. I could have screwed the cap off those babies and secretly chugged away up here in my room….
But I didn’t …
Feelings of panic and deep sadness, all of the feelings I’ve mentioned in this post, they’ve flown through me and out again.
And I circle back to sitting here quietly on my bed in one sober piece.