A Call from Al

I got a call from my old friend Al the other night. We haven't seen each other in six months, and I was surprised to hear his voice. Time has really flown by since I saw him last. His voice was as smoothly beautiful as ever, but it disturbed me to hear it. We parted ways half a year ago on very bad terms.


The conversation went something like this:


Al: Hello, buddy boy! Remember me?


Me: Al...why are you calling me?


Al: Oh, Bill. I was hoping you'd be glad to hear from me.


Me: Al, really, why would I be glad to hear from you?


Al: Well, I'm glad to hear your voice, but you sound just a little shaky. Bill, I was just thinking about how much fun we used to have. We had some wonderful times, we really did. Remember?


Me: I remember being in the hospital six months ago.


Al: I'm not talking about those times, Bill. Forget that. It doesn't have to be like that. We don't have to spend so much time together. That's what got us in trouble. But we could spend time together again, just now and then. No worries.


Me: I'm not worried. I've been doing a lot of thinking and praying the past six months.


Al: I know you have, Bill. I know exactly what you've been doing for the past six months. I keep tabs on you, buddy. I know who you've been talking to, and they're wrong about me, Bill. I'm not a bad guy. I have plenty of friends who will tell you that. Those new friends of yours...they really are unfair. Bill, they're fanatics. They're like a cult. You can think for yourself. Look, just let me come by for a visit. I promise I won't stay long...just an hour or so. You give these new people an hour or more each day. All I'm asking for is a little fair play here, some equal time. Doesn't that sound reasonable?


Me: No, it doesn't. And it doesn't work that way with my new friends. I'm sure you have new friends by now to play with, Al. Leave me alone.


Al: You're right, Bill. I make new friends every single day. But, Bill, you know that none of them mean as much to me as you do. I just want to be with you, and hold you and comfort you. I know you get lonely at times, and I will be there for you. I'll hold you, Bill, just for a little while and then I'll go. I won't move back in. We can just hang out a while, and see each other every week or so, okay? I know you'd like that. It can be like those grand old times again, I promise!


Me: I'll tell you what, Al. I'll ask my new friends and see what they say.


Al: NO!!! Let me come by first, just for a short visit!


Me: Goodbye, Al.


Al: I'll be right outside your door, Bill. ALWAYS. I'll be looking in your windows. You know you're going to ask me to come back inside sooner or later. You know you need -


Me: (click)


Al has made many promises to me that he will never keep, but there is one which I know is sincere. He will wait for me; he will lurk outside my door. I must be watchful and wary, but I do not need to be fearful. Like Odysseus, I have a crew who will keep me tied fast to the mast as long as I continue to sail in their company. The Sirens will sing, with Al smack dab in the middle of them. My job is no longer captain of my ship; I just need to keep my vessel seaworthy. There are only twelve simple steps to keep my boat afloat, and as long as I am diligent and work hard I will remain safe. My own mighty Captain will set the course, and He does not heed the Song of Sirens.


My call from Al, as happens with so many alcoholics in recovery, came when I least expected it. I was in a two-hour class on the 12 Steps of AA when the call came, and for a few moments I could not hear the instructor. If Al could call in this setting, he may call me anywhere. AA gives me tools; I need to be sure they are put to use. I started today with an early meeting. I am writing this now because it helps me clarify my confusion. Today I will actively work on my homework assignment from my 12 Step class.

(Click here to read the background story about my friend Al)