August 5

August 5 – AM

Page 125, The Family Afterward, Chapter 9

We families of Alcoholics Anonymous keep few skeletons in the closet.  Everyone knows about the others’ alcoholic troubles.  This is a condition which, in ordinary life, would produce untold grief; there might be scandalous gossip, laughter at the expense of other people, and a tendency to take advantage of intimate information.  Among us, these are rare occurrences.  We do talk about each other a great deal, but we almost invariably temper such talk by a spirit of love and tolerance.

August 5 – PM

Page 106, To Wives, Chapter 8

The bill collectors, the sheriffs, the angry taxi drivers, the policemen, the bums, the pals, and even the ladies they sometimes brought home—our husbands thought we were so inhospitable.  “Joykiller, nag, wet blanket”—that’s what they said.  Next day they would be themselves again and we would forgive and try to forget.
We have tried to hold the love of our children for their father.  We have told small tots that father was sick, which was much nearer the truth than we realized.  They struck the children, kicked out door panels, smashed treasured crockery, and ripped the keys out of pianos.  In the midst of such pandemonium they may have rushed out threatening to live with the other woman forever.  In desperation, we have even got tight ourselves—the drunk to end all drunks.  The unexpected result was that our husbands seemed to like it.