Today

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I had my last drink in late October. 

My sobriety date is November 1, 1994.

Scared is too small a word for how I felt. 

It’s a fact I was lonely in the kitchen I worked in at the time. 

I carried a boulder of grief for a few weeks. 

Certain I’d have to surrender the only thing I loved with all my being.

Who would I be if not a cook? 

My imagination couldn't yet reach the place of doing it without a drink.

I asked a good man in Stratford if he knew of any sober people working in restaurants.

No...but we can do this one day at a time.

So many cooks have tattoos on their body of people they love. 

Mine are on my heart.

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2021