Today I went to the noon meeting. I had some reservation after the problem I had last Friday. The last few pages of Bill's story were read before I got there and The first few pages were read when I was there. My friend Charlie shared about how he always felt things more intensely that other people and that he felt alcohol more intensely than others.

I shared about how these pages describe who "we" are and that "we" were necesary before "I" could admit the nature of my disease.

I got to read:
We hope this volume will inform and comfort those who are, or who may be affected. There are many.
Highly competent psychiatrists who have dealt with us have found it sometimes impossible to persuade an alcoholic to discuss his situation without reserve. Strangely enough, wives, parents and intimate friends usually find us even more unapproachable than do the psychiatrist and the doctor.
But the ex-problem drinker who has found this solution, who is properly armed with facts about himself, can generally win the entire confidence of another alcoholic in a few hours. Until such an understanding is reached, little or nothing can be accomplished.

No one mentioned the problem that happened last Friday.

Tonight I stopped and looked at bikes at Slaughter Bike Shop in my neighborhood. I went back with my son and bought a bike for myself and for him.

We took a ride around the neighborhood and I finally realized the moment I've been waiting for where he ad I rode side by side.