Have Yourself a Sober Little Christmas.
Four and a half years ago, I quit drinking.
It was a bright, sunny April day in Portland, Oregon.
I sat outside at the New Old Lompoc on Northwest 23rd with an old friend. We sipped half-stale champagne and talked about how totally epic the cherry blossoms were.
The conversation paused, and I heard a voice inside of me say, “Enough.”
Read more on Elephant Journal.
