This Saturday, with a little bit of luck, I’ll be celebrating 34 years in Recovery. Very often at this time of year, I start reflecting on things that have happened in my life, and just how I got to this place filled with gratitude. I looked down at my keychain, and there, staring me in the face, was a vivid reminder of how fragile our Recovery can be.
A little over 28 years ago I moved up to Fort Lauderdale from Miami. I had slightly over 5 years clean at the time. I had just gotten married, my son was born a year later, and we bought a beautiful little house in Cooper City….a bedroom community of Fort Lauderdale.
Although my life was good, there were many changes and challenges, all taking place at the same time. I went from a five minute commute to work, to spending close to three hours a day on the highway. I went from living in an apartment for most of my life, to being a homeowner with all of the responsibilities that come along with it. I went from being a single guy, with lots of toys; boats, motorcycles and sports cars, to a guy buying his first minivan, crib, diapers and strollers.
Most importantly, my father, who was the victim of medical malpractice, was lying in a coma in a hospital in Miami Beach and my mother was fighting breast cancer. To quote a Tale of Two Cities, It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I had 5 years clean, and my previous life was unrecognizable.
After the move, I tried going to several meetings in my new area but it was difficult. In Miami, I knew everyone in the rooms. I felt at home. When I’d walk into a meeting, there were always people coming up to me and giving me a big hug. In my new area, when I walked into a meeting, very often I wouldn’t know a soul. Although people were friendly enough, I felt like an outsider, and I started questioning whether I really even needed these meetings after all.
One Friday night, I walked into a small meeting at a clubhouse. It was tiny compared to the meetings that I was used to. There wasn’t anyone there that I knew, and I seriously considered walking out and just going home. My sponsor had suggested that I raise my hand and share my feelings, and perhaps that would make me feel better and more part of the group.
I did what I was told. That night I let it all hang out. I cried in front of these strangers. I shared my joy and my pain with them, mentioning that I had considered going home and not returning. I was completely drained after my share and still shaking in my seat, when this guy from the row in front of me asked me my clean date. After I gave it to him, he promptly stood up and left the room. I remember thinking how odd that was.
At the end of the meeting, we closed with the Just For Today instead of the Serenity Prayer. Even after 5 years, I didn’t even know all of the words. People started coming up to me and shared how they felt moving to a new area. I started to feel better that I wasn’t alone anymore. What happened next would shape how I viewed everything.
The guy that asked me my clean date, handed me a silver dollar. It had five fresh holes drilled in it, along with the date 11/19/82 engraved in it. After my share, this man, who went by the name of “Rainbow John” had gone out to the parking lot and engraved the coin to make me feel better. It worked!
I told him that I”d be back the following week and I actually was looking forward to it!
That was 28 years ago. Now that meeting, Plantation Recovery, is my “home group”. I’m there just about every Friday night and it’s still the only meeting that I know of that closes with the Just For Today instead of the Serenity Prayer.
“Rainbow John” became a dear friend that would add a hole to my coin for many years until he passed away from liver disease. He died clean. It’s funny how something so simple, as a hug, a sharing of feelings, or a simple gift, can make us feel welcome. That night 28 years ago, might have actually been my last meeting, if it wasn’t for the kindness shared from one addict to another. I’ve never forgotten what that felt like, and try to be that welcoming spirit whenever possible.
I heard when I first came to Recovery, not to leave 5 minutes before the miracle happens. Sometimes we’re the last ones to see the miracles as they’re taking place. I’m filled with gratitude today. My life is richer than it’s ever been, and I need to always remember the power that one recovering person has with another. I’d like to be the “Rainbow John” in someone else’s life today! We all have that capability, and it really doesn’t even take that much effort. Thanks for letting me share.
18 Comments
Thank You.
Wonderful post! Made me cry tears of joy for you!
So happy for you and the life you’ve built and thankful for your life. You clearly have much to offer those who care about you.
All the best!
Thats how I finally got it too kenny,doing what I”m told to do,great post.
I too felt that way when i first came into the room. And I too got my coin from the one and only “Rainbow John’ I now have 17 years clean and whenever I look at my coin on my keychain I am grateful for the men and womyn who came up to me those first days and weeks, I pray that John is waiting at the other end of the Rainbow so he can see the gift he gave me all those years ago.
Glad to know you and honored by your work and example.
I cried! Tears of hope, tears of remembering how hard life can be, tears of joy remembering those awesome people who were and are there for us when we hurt…this is recovery at its very best.
Thank you so much for sharing this.
Wow! What a lifting story! Thank you for sharing this with us. Amazing! My mother and I have a very similar tradition going on. She is about to engrave my 11th year clean on 11-22.
Thanks for sharing and I love your pictures they have brightened many of my days,and my poem. Thanks too for making me feel welcome at ITR when I didn’t feel welcome anywhere. 34 years awesome!
Thank God you didn’t have one of those sponsors who tell you to take the cotton out of your ears and put it in your mouth.
Great article Kenny congratulations .and rainbow did the same for me.
Thank you Kenny for that fantastic post. I have a coin story. I had met a guy on ITR and who checked on me daily my first month of sobriety. Of course I was shaky, bewildered about the program and had just lost my license This gentleman happened to have a sales area that included NH. We made a time to meet for coffee. He met me at work, and I was a bit scared, but the coffee place was just down the road. We sat, got an early dinner and he talked program with me. As he drives me to my house, about 15 miles out of the way, he pulls out a coin from his pocket and gave my my very first medallion for achieving one month sobriety. Although we have not seen each other since in person, we live a few states away from each other, we still talk via ITR and phone and he is still very much a mentor in my recovery. That coin is the most important one I have, even beats out my one year medallion from my sponsor. The reason was he took the time to connect with a very fragile newcomer, and was my first experience with getting to know the Big Book. I am so grateful for that mentor being in my life, and he still reaches out to newcomers almost daily to welcome them on the site. Congrats on 34 years and thanks for creating a platform that truly has shaped my sobriety. xoxo Melissa_in_NH
Thank you for your message – it’s helped me a lot this morning – god bless
That’s an awesome story Kenny! I would be proud to have a coin like that! I just received my 1year coin but it doesn’t have a hole in it yet..So maybe I can find someone like Rainbow some day..
This is stunning.. in the most heartfelt way. Stopped in my tracks. I have moved a lot in recovery and mostly I have found new “homes” but it was only after a lot of trial and error- and processing through the feelings of being different, loneliness and missing my peeps. I didn’t have a “Rainbow Joe” but I have always found SOMEONE who made a difference – even I guy I was not close to, who always hollered our “Quiche Key!!!!” when he saw me. And that was the treat- being seen. That was the longing. We had a guy here in the SJ area (long since passed away) who handed out marbles and his phone number to new comers. They were given so we didn’t have to lose all our marbles and relapse. We would have one marble left and someone to call. I still have mine.
congratulations Kenny on your 34 years……in just a few hours! 🙂 We share a sobriety birthday. I will be 29 years clean and sober tomorrow as well. Thanks for sharing this story and for all the service that you provide this community of miracles!
Tears are literally streaming down my cheeks..you are one amazing man..when I saw that coin I got jealous..after hearing how you received it I was so grateful to Rainbow..NA would not be the same without you..again, congrats..love to Jamie..
Congratulations Kenny, your parents would be proud of you and I am sure their watching over you,
I remember your first years, we spoke at Joo’s, I started a few years earlier, April 11 will be my 38th year, what a relieve.
Keep up the good work.
Please give my regards to your Family.
Thanks for sharing Ken. I went through similar feelings at my first few meetings on Maui. Clean 6 years and felt like a newcomer who hadn’t relapsed. Felt out of place. Left my home groups in Miami where everybody knew me and many were part of my recovery story, and entered a new room full of strangers. I felt out if place. I felt like it would be easier if I had relapsed. But as in most things that cause me discomfort, I kept coming back and I made a new home on Maui. It’s been 26 years since I moved her, 32 clean and any room here I walk into is home. Aloha my old friend.