Friday, 19 July 2013

Remembering Anne

Anne Smith (Dr. Bob's wife) March 21st, 1881 - June 1st, 1949 June 1950 AA Grapevine

"She greeted strangers, and listened for their names."

Somehow we believe Dr. Bob's beloved Anne would prefer this simple tribute beyond all others. It was written by one who knew her well. It came from the bottom of a grateful heart which sensed that extravagant language and trumpeting phrases would serve only to obscure a life that had deep meaning.

It is doubtful if now, only one year after her passing, that, the true significance of Anne Smith's life can be realized. Certainly it cannot yet be written, for the warmth of her love, and charm of her personality and the strength of her humility are still upon those of us who knew her.

For Anne Smith was far more than a gracious lady. She was one of four people, chosen by a Higher Destiny, to perform a service to mankind. How great this contribution is, only time and an intelligence beyo nd man's can determine. With Dr. Bob, Lois and Bill, Anne Smith stepped into history, not as a heroine but as one willing to accept God's will and ready to do what needed to be done.

Her kitchen was the battleground and, while Anne poured the black coffee, a battle was fought there which has led to your salvation and mine. It was she, perhaps, who first understood the miracle of what passed between Bill and Dr. Bob. And, in the years to follow, it was she who knew with divine certainty that what had happened in her home would happen in other homes again, again, and yet again. For Anne, understood the simplicity of faith. Perhaps that's why God chose her for us. Perhaps that's why Anne never once thought of herself as a 'woman of destiny' but went quietly about her job. Perhaps that's why, when she said to a grief-torn wife, "Come in, my dear, you're with friends now - friends who understand" that fear and loneliness vanished. Perhaps that's why Anne alw ays sat in the rear of the meetings, so she could see the newcomers as they came, timid and doubtful...and make them welcome.

There's a plaque on the wall of Akron's St. Thomas hospital dedicated to Anne. It's a fine memorial. But there's a finer one lying alongside the typewriter as this is being written - letters to Dr. Bob from men and women who knew and loved her well. Each tries to put in words what is felt in many hearts. They fail - and that's the tribute beyond price. For real love, divine love, escapes even the poet's pen.

So, in the simplest way we know, and speaking for every AA everywhere, let's just say 'Thanks, Dr. Bob, for sharing her with us.' We know that she's in a Higher Group now, sitting well to the back, with an eye out for newcomers, greeting the strangers and listening for their names!

Posted from Blogium for iPhone

Wednesday, 3 July 2013


I've not blogged for a while, not for quite a while to be honest. Mostly this is down to the fact that I am fundamentally a lazy, lazy Bastard. That and the fact that I don't really think anyone reads the ramblings I have chosen to write. However, flicking through some of the relatively new blogger info listings I found I've had Fourteen thousand two hundred and seventeen views since I started blogging. With that I mind I might get back at it for a little while.

What's with all the numbers?

Ever looked at your phone and noticed the time was 11.11 or maybe 2.22, 4.44 etc? I've always been drawn to sets of numbers like that and have even been know to pull over on the side of the road when a particularly  pleasing sequence of numbers show themselves on my cars odometer. Over time I've even taken to thinking of such events as little God moments, a time to stop, to reflect, take a breath and plod on. In the past this has been known to happen to me as much as two or three times a week. Till recently that is.

Over the last couple of weeks I've been noticing these kind of sequences four or five times a day!!! I cant get away from the bloody things and to be honest it's starting to freak me out just a little bit. Day after day 10.10, 5.55 etc,etc,etc. Then last night, I wake to Jack shouting in his bedroom and rush in to find to poor little tike throwing up all over his bed. Happily, or maybe not so happily cleaning up puke my other half suddenly springs into muffled action asking if everything is ok then pointing out that its 3.33.

I watched a film called white noise a few years ago that span my mind about 3.33 in the morning, if you've seen it, you know. If you haven't, you don't know. Either way, I have to wonder what, if anything all this signifies. I still like the idea of little God moments through my day (and night) maybe I just need to take time to listen a bit more.