Fuck You, Alice Walker.

I love Al-Anon. I mean, I really, really love it. I've been to four meetings now and I've gotten something out of every one of them -- once I got body wash in "fresh vanilla" from a woman who was away for Christmas so she decided to bring Valentine's Day gifts for everyone. Fun!

I have yet to find a meeting with free coffee or cookies.

They do, however, offer lots of helpful suggestions for handling life and usually they come in the form of a cute catchphrase which is nice. One of my favorite things I've learned so far is detachment.

IN AL-ANON WE LEARN:

Not to suffer because of the actions or reactions of other people;

Not to allow ourselves to be used or abused by others in the interest of another's recovery;

Not to do for others what they could do for themselves;

Not to manipulate situations so others will eat, go to bed, get up, pay bills, not drink;

Not to cover up for anyone's mistakes or misdeeds;

Not to create a crisis;

Not to prevent a crisis if it is in the natural course of events.

Detachment is neither kind nor unkind. It does not imply judgment or condemnation of the person or situation from which we are detaching. It is simply a means that allows us to separate ourselves from the adverse effects that another person's alcoholism can have upon our lives. Detachment helps families look at their situations realistically and objectively, thereby making intelligent decisions possible.

Brilliant.

Alice Walker wrote a short story called, "Everyday Use," that has tortured me since I read it in my Women's Contemporary Lit class back in the early 90's. What I remember about it is that it's a story of a small family in the south -- a mother with two daughters. One daughter grew up, moved out, got an education and a good job. The other stayed home and helped Mama churn butter and make quilts. The daughter who moved out came home for a visit and started going on about the quilts and how they were so quaint and great examples of folk art and shouldn't be wasted by using them every day. She tries to take a quilt with her and the mother freaks, snatches it from her hands and gives it to the butter churner.

What did I learn from this story? I learned that leaving home (particularly one in the south) to seek a different life is bad. I also learned that the daughter who stays home and is miserable is the good daughter and should be applauded for her martyrdom.

Alice Walker, I have spent the last couple of decades feeling guilty about leaving home for a different life than the one offered to me in Fitzgerald. I have felt that I was the bad daughter for a long time and have felt accountable for the misery suffered by my family who remained in Georgia. Well, Alice Walker, I will suffer no more. I have learned detachment. It is okay for me to have the life I want. It is okay for me to move away and do the things I want to do and to learn the things I want to learn. It is not my fault that my family chooses to live in a place they hate, nor is it my responsibility to save them from it.

You can keep your quilt.