I had to forgive my dead husband again today. I didn’t want to. It’s been nine years, and I expect that I shouldn’t be so angry at him anymore. But I still am. And under that I still get scared, though not nearly so much.
The Slippery Slope of Alcoholism
To borrow from the greeting of a recovery meeting: “Hi, my name is Bonnie and I am the granddaughter of two alcoholics (both sides of the family tree), daughter of an alcoholic, sister of an alcoholic, and aunt of an alcoholic.” Alcoholism runs strong and deep in my family tree. As the old proverb says, “There, but for the grace of God, go I.” I mean that literally! Had I not found Jesus at 13 years old, I believe that I too would have been in that number.
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