I’m grateful for a perfect, gloomy, rainy day. I’m grateful for a shave and a haircut. I’m grateful for the first of many bookstores. I’m even grateful for Nescafe in my room. I’m grateful for growing trust and ebbing fear. I’m grateful for exactly the way things are. I’m grateful to be sober today.
Well, you get a pretty good idea about yesterday. Highlights included taking my son-in-law for a shave, the first of many great bookstores (Hatchards), a gloomy, perfect walk through St. James Park, obligatory tea in a gorgeous setting and a great dinner. It’s been pretty great and one of the interesting things is how we are navigating the whole alcohol thing.
A lot of people are perplexed about what to do when they’re around me. By “a lot of people” I mean the non-alcoholics of the world. Once I tell folks I don’t drink, it sets off a variety of reactions: The incredulous, “so you don’t ever drink, ever?” The slightly suspicious and kind of invasive, “is it because of medication?” The stony silence or just plain bafflement—what is the right thing to do? Here’s something I think is really unusual, and it’s worth more time another day.1 If I were to tell you I was eliminating candy or sugar or caffeine or carbs or meat or gluten or cigarettes or reality tv or whatever from my life, you’d mostly nod and we’d move on to the next topic. Telling people you don’t drink anymore is a very, very, very different thing. Like it’s inconceivable that someone would do that voluntarily and it generates quite a bit of suspicion. It’s more of a conversation ender.
Anyway, we were at tea yesterday and, of course, it includes a glass of champagne and a shot of mulled wine. I had declined the shot and the server was about to skip my glass with the champagne as well, but I issued a countermanding order. My daughter’s eyes got very wide—when the server left, I pushed the glass to my son-in-law—”50% more for each of you!” Alcohol was my Kryptonite to be sure, but it never worked alone, it always had a number of accomplices. It took more for other people to have a drink in front of me to get the train rolling.
A bit later we were discussing dinner plans and I suggested stopping for a drink before our 9:30 reservation—another widening of the eyes. I continued in my best, nonchalant manner, told them about the bar at the Rosewood Hotel, kind of on the way, usually had live music, pretty swanky. There was a brief silence, then “are you sure that’s ok with you, Dad?” Yes. It’s very okay with me. Since it’s so difficult to understand so much about this disease, it’s very tough for people to know what to do around me. You may have noticed, I’ve decided to take the direct approach.
I didn’t drink alcoholically because everyone else was. That was all pretty much me and the internal storm systems—that’s why dealing with me was the only thing that could really change my drinking. It’s why I’m ok now sitting at a bar, with friends and family enjoying a cocktail, listening to a pretty good jazz trio amid wood-paneled english loveliness. My travel companions ordered their incredibly complicated cocktails (“whisky and honey are a thing?”), when it was my turn, I smiled, “I’m good with the sparkling water.”2 And I am.
We had a really lovely time, when their drinks arrived and had been properly presented, there was a quick toast and our glasses clinked. We were in a beautiful place, having a really nice time. My travel companions were in a bar with an alcoholic! No one seemed to mind too much, my daughter’s eyes weren’t wide with alarm anymore, they were sparkling in the candlelight instead.
Off to Hampton Court! Off with their Heads!
Thanks for Letting Me Share
I have breakfast to get to and the trip organizer greatly appreciates punctuality.
I always drink sparkling water and a quick plea to bartenders and restauranteurs: Is it ok if I have my sparking water in a grown-up wine glass like the other folks at the table?
I had four of our adult kids (we have six when you count the significant others) home for Christmas, and one of our Christmas Eve plans was to enjoy some really great pizza and beer at a local place. We did it last year during the Thanksgiving holiday, and shortly after we returned, my son who was in active addiction flipped out and caused a major ruckus. So I was a little apprehensive about going to the place. Alcohol was not his drug of choice, so that was a lesser concern. Later I asked him if he was okay--if being there brought up bad memories. He totally didn’t remember the trip last year!
I think we all wonder if it’s okay to drink with an alcoholic, so thanks for this.
Thank you for these really important words, TBD - I've learned a great deal. I'm glad you're enjoying London.