RIP, Bob H

I got a call from Jim - one of my two original sponsors - a couple of days ago telling me that the other half of the tag team died this week.  Bob was probably in his mid-eighties and had a good forty years of sobriety.  Jim was closer to me in sobriety and spent some time  with me socially - taking me to different meetings, having me over for dinner, dragging me to the occasional dance.  Bob was all business - nice but official.  I get that today - he had undoubtedly seen a lot of guys like me come and go.  He wasn't interested in making a friend - he was serving as a sponsor.  I remember a lot of short, brisk phone calls where he did the talking and I did the listening.  He also wasn't interested in hearing me go over and over my unremarkable and totally deserved problems in excruciating detail.  He was in Solution mode right from the git go.

SuperK gave me a hug and told me that I'd had a lot of loss over the last year.  I shrugged this off, reminding her that Bob and I had been out of touch for a long time.

She said: "Your letter is spot on.  Do you think I didn't know who died when you said Bob's name?  You talk about him all of the time."

Anyway, I sent a letter along.  I hope it is some comfort to the family.  It did me a lot of good writing it.

Mr. Bob H

Sponsor

Big Meeting In The Sky

Stevie Seaweed

AKA, “Half-Measures Seaweed"

Dear Bob:

Thanks for being there to listen to me – a little – when I was getting started in The Fellowship. More importantly, thanks for not listening to me too much because, as you know, I didn't have too much to share in the Solution department, preferring to dwell in the Problem department instead. I understand today why this wasn't particularly interesting, a fact that eluded me at the time.

Although we didn't speak but a few times in the course of the last 28 ½ years be assured that you were frequently on my mind. If half the stuff I attributed to you was actually true you would either be up for sainthood or in jail somewhere. Maybe a little of both. You know the stories we tell: “When I was getting sober my sponsor made me go to seven meetings a day and I had to make coffee for all of them and I had to clean out the pots with a toothbrush and I wasn't allowed to talk for the first ten years and etc etc etc."  I do try to be honest but everyone loves a good sponsor story, right?

Mostly what I remember is your patience and good humor and straightforward advice. I was a pain in the . . . well, you know . . . and surely tried your patience from time to time.

I look forward to seeing you on the other side. And I promise I won't talk. Really.

With much love,

Little Stevie Seaweed