A moment of gratitude

As a follow-up, our anniversary was lovely.  We exchanged gifts, played a board game (which I gave to D--he loves board games), and went out to a lovely dinner.  We drove around shopping (fantasizing) for expensive cars we can't afford and talking a lot about where we are and where we've come and where we're going--perhaps to a future where I can drive a BMW, perhaps not, but certainly to a future I look forward to.  Sometimes I am so amazed by this gift we have found in remaking ourselves and our relationship that I can't fully grasp it.  

Sometimes it is easy to look past all the little things, the tiny everyday experiences that are so utterly changed since we both started recovery.  This past week, since those lovely anniversary conversations, I have noticed more and I am practically brimming over with gratitude.  It really is just the tiniest, silliest things that make the biggest differences and are the lasting mark of health in our lives--things like the fact that D is on time to work every day.  In active addiction, he was late everywhere he went, usually because he could not physically pry himself away from his computer without great effort.  Now we are on time--even early--almost everywhere we go.  Things like the fact that I was able to communicate my needs about household chores, and D agreed, and I am committed to working on loosening my expectations about other people's timelines in exchange for a little mental health and relaxation for myself.  On Monday, D came home from work and with no complaint we went outside together and did yard work.  The grass is still tall and un-mowed because my dad wanted to take us out to dinner, but it will get done and I am ok with its imperfection for the moment.   Things like the fact that I haven't checked the phone records in months and have no urge to do so.  

Life is not perfect.  I still have my moments (lots of them) of codie craziness, and I still battle with my incessant need for control and perfection, but those feelings seem to have taken a backseat position instead of hogging the wheel all the time.  At the very least, when they pop up I am (mostly) able to talk myself back out of them long enough to tell someone, and I have a best friend in D who understands and can often help me see reason.  It is moments like these when--though I cannot say I am happy about going through this pain of addiction--I am so, so thankful for everything we have gone through that has brought me to this point.