Monday, July 20, 2015

17.  Better Instincts
I walked into the break room to get a cup of coffee.  A young blonde woman in shorts and an oversized t-shirt was standing beside the coffee pot, with her back to the counter where the coffee maker sat.  She knew who I was, and asked if I had craved alcohol early in my recovery.  Before I could answer, she said, “I want a drink.  Just a drink.  No Oxys, no Xanny bars, nothing I can smoke. Just one really, really strong drink.  That’s all I want.”
I told her there was something keeping her from drinking, or we wouldn’t have been having that conversation.  She told me she was two months pregnant, but only two weeks clean. Worrying she might have already harmed her baby kept her up at night.  We both laughed as she told me about punching a drunk, male friend.  He had insisted on rubbing her belly after she told him she was pregnant.  “I didn’t girlie slap him,” she said. “I punched right in the mouth.  He had a fat lip.  Why are you smiling?”

“Every day I hear about good people doing bad things. Instinctively they know what’s right, but because they need drugs, or maybe they’ve just been street for so long, or they just don’t care anymore, they do wrong.  It’s so nice to see someone follow her better instincts.  Kiddo, you’ve got a strong protective mother instinct.  That may be best of the better instincts.”

Today I will be grateful for people who follow their better instincts.

Writing My New Story © 2015 by Ken Montrose
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(Just a reminder: Writing My New Story is a work of fiction.  Any resemblance to anyone you might know is purely coincidental.)

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