To all the girls I've loved

Sponsorship, what a gift it is, both when giving and receiving. For the next few days, I want to meander along my memory and share with you the amazing women who have sponsored me over the years.

When I first came into the rooms, like other newcomer women, I didn't much like anyone, male or female. I had put up with a lot of abuse from men when I was out there, so I really disliked and distrusted them. But you women, well, although I had many close women who I ran with, basically I operated under the belief that there was a limited supply of drugs, men controlled them, and women got in the way of my access.

My first two friends in the program were men, Bobby and Steve. (Bobby has since died in a car accident.) They loved me partly because I was so crazy. Steve said he loved hanging around with me because "it was like meeting a different person every day." I'm not sure that was a compliment.

At one of my first meetings, Bobby assigned his girlfriend, Valerie, as my temporary sponsor.
Valerie was beautiful and warm, about ten years younger than me. She looked like Gidget and I looked like Lucy LaMode, the lead singer of the punk band Killer Pussy, with bright red hair mowed on one side with a long tail on the other. Remember that old saying "I've spilled more dope than she ever did"? That was my impression of Valerie. But I grew to love her, because she loved me unconditionally.

To make a long story short, I think I really used Steve as my first sponsor but I knew I couldn't work the steps with him. Each time I went out he welcomed me back. The second-to-the-last time I used, I had gone to my girlfriend's house for a BBQ. She was still using, but I had 90 days and was bulletproof, or so I thought.

They starting smoking; they called it "freebase." I took one hit off a pipe and knew instantly that I didn't want that way of life anymore. I flew out of her house and to the Rhythm Room, where a bunch of recovering addicts, including Steve, were going to go listen to music. Steve was waiting out front for me. He took one look at me and said "You're high."

"You're right." I said. I was miserable. "I'm one of those ones they talk about in the Big Book, aren't I? You know, 'constitutionally incapable of being honest with myself.' I'm not going to make it, am I?"

"Yes, you're going to make it," he said, looking me straight in the eye. I sometimes wonder what might have happened to me if he had said "No." I really think I would have given up and slinked away to die.

"Do another first step," Steve said, and I did. Valerie must have heard 20 first steps from me, and finally I stayed clean. I starting writing my fourth step and it was like the Phoenix phone book. I had quite a bit of baggage, to say the least, and although I loved Valerie, I was too low-end an addict to feel comfortable doing my fifth step with her. Again, Steve came to the rescue and recommended a friend of his, Patti.

She was a wonderful, wacky woman about ten years older than me with about 14 years clean. She and another addict pretty much started Phoenix NA, although she had by then drifted off to the other Fellowship mainly. She still came to my home group sometimes, Hip, Slick and Kool.

I remember doing my first fifth step. I went over to Patti's apartment. I don't remember much except that she unplugged the phone. It took about five hours to get through my fifth, but I left there feeling like just maybe I could stay clean. She didn't give me a lot of feedback, but she was always there to discuss things if I had questions. I ran into her the other day at a meeting she attends regularly, and we talked as if we'd just seen each other the day before. She has 36 years now, and she is still warm and funny and has the best things to say.

My favorite story about her, and now that I'm remembering it I think that this is why Steve referred me to her. She and her husband were living together, I'm not sure if they were married or not (they're still married, in fact he was at the meeting with her). They had a big fight and neither one of them had the money to move out so they divided the house in half with a rope. Neither was allowed to cross the rope except with permission. The problem? The phone was on John's side, and every time someone called for Patti, he had to hand her the phone over the rope.

Steve thought that was hilarious and slightly wack, so that' s why he thought she'd be a good sponsor for me. She was. I used her later, too, when I moved back to Phoenix after my engagement ended.

Over the years, watching her marriage with John and watching her become more deeply Christian yet not abandon her Fellowship roots, she's been a strong role model for me. She is one of my many teachers. Soon, we'll meet Denise.