I was half close to having a drink on Friday, struggling with my sobriety and my depression. Losing my dad to alcoholism at 42 years old has played on my mind a lot through the past 10 weeks and while most of the time I’m okay, some are really dark.
So I fucked off anyway and decided to go and see my sister and her new dog to try an avoid the depressive thoughts.
I took Patty my bully with me and we got on the bus, sat down and a few minutes later a woman started asking about the dog
The conversation went on and we talked about Covid, holidays and other stuff all the way from Picton Rd to Belle Vale shops. Then just as the bus stopped we said our goodbyes and she told me her name and I told her mine
She then said something that made me mention my family in America. She then asked my family name just as the bus was waiting for me to get off and it turned out...
This was her and my dad in Santa Monica circa 1995. She spent 3 hours tonight telling me stories and sending me photos tonight and I can’t really put into words the spiritual feeling that I have from it all but, dad, I got the message #soberlife
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