This holiday season has been the best I have had in years. So good, in fact, that when my mother suggested we all go ice skating, I never gave it a second thought. It’s been almost four years since the accident. Four sober, fulfilling, soul searching years. I have made some mistakes throughout these years, but I have made even more positive strides towards a brighter future for myself and my children. I am proud of the person, wife, and mother I am today. It’s taken me this long to realize that what I have done isn’t nearly as important as what I am doing. So, this year when my mother presented us with the idea of going back to “the scene of the crime”, I wasn’t reluctant or apprehensive. I was prepared.
I was confident that all of the work and dedication I have put into my sobriety had prepared me for moments like this; moments of truth. Had I moved past the car accident and forgiven myself, or was I still living in the past with my old pals Guilt, Shame and Remorse? Only a trip to the ice rink, that I took my children to drunk that day, could have answered this question for me.
Had I healed or was I still burdened?
We pulled into the parking lot, and I was much too preoccupied with getting myself and the kids all bundled up to take a moment of reflection. I was fueled with playful energy; which helped to drown out any hesitation I might have had.
As I stepped into the rink, the chilled air hit my face. It was as if I had stepped into a time machine transporting me right back to that day.
My husband and I squeezed and laced each of our three children in their ice skates and released them onto the ice. Our youngest was more interested in the snack stand. I spent the better part of two hours convincing our middle child to let go of the wall and take flight, so to speak. I encouraged and motivated her to skate on her own; to let go and believe that she was capable of ice skating as well as, or better than her older brother. And when that didn’t work…I bribed her! Before I realized, three hours had passed.
I took a moment, as we were leaving the rink, to thank God for his grace and my husband for his love. I quietly said a prayer of gratitude to myself for the unwavering commitment I had to my recovery, and I truly understood the meaning of the word trust.
Because I trusted my higher power and I believed that I was deserving of a second chance, I was able to walk into the very same building that only four short years earlier was the cause of so much hurt. It represented a devastating turning point, a day of sorrow.
When I reflect back on the evening I am amazed at how far we can all come in recovery if we trust that our higher power truly does have it all figured out. I view my experience much much differently. I know, without a doubt, that I was meant to have that accident in order to become the person I am today. I appreciate life and all its simple treasures.
Walking out of that ice skating rink with my family, four years after that fateful day, is a gift. A simple way of reassuring myself that as long as I follow this path, I have nothing to fear!
This post was submitted by Amy B.