Yesterday was my wedding anniversary. I've been married to an alcoholic for six years and we've been together for 10.

I didn't know she was an alcoholic, but began to suspect about four years ago. Even so, I didn't know what that meant. What's an alcoholic? A panhandler in the street, trying to scrape together enough spare change to buy a bottle of cheap booze to get through the chilly night? Or is an alcoholic a seemingly confident woman in a position of authority who is an over-achiever in the areas of community involvement? As I've come to learn, an alcoholic can range from either of those extremes or land anywhere in between. Alcoholism doesn't discriminate. It doesn't care what your income level is or what job you have.

I wish I knew then what I know now. I could've avoided making so many mistakes when dealing with my wife, my (adult-child of an alcoholic) mom, my alcoholic brother,  my probably alcoholic (and adult-child of an alcoholic) ex-wife and my alcoholic first mother-in-law (as well as her mother).

In Al-Anon, there is a piece of literature called "The Three Views" and one of them is an open letter from an alcoholic. "Don't lecture, blame or scold me. You wouldn't be angry at me for having cancer or diabetes. Alcoholism is a disease too," the letter states. "Don't accept my promises. I'll promise anything to get off the hook. But the nature of my illness prevents me from keeping my promises even though I mean them at the time.

"Don't make empty threats. When you make a decision, stick to it.

"Don't believe everything I tell you; it may be a lie. Denial of reality is a symptom of my illness. Moreover, I'm likely to lose respect for those I can fool too easily. ...

"Don't cover up for me or try in any way to spare me the consequences of my drinking.  ... I can continue to deny that I have a drinking problem as long as you provide an automatic espace for the consequences of my drinking."

These are some of the bits that stand out for me. I try to live by this letter when dealing with my wife.

The night I walked into my first meeting, Jan. 3, 2010, they read that letter out loud. It hit me like a hammer. It described my life. I was searching for hidden bottles, pouring out alcohol, lecturing, blaming, scolding, believing promises and allowing the alcoholic to provoke my anger.

My mom, who has been staying with me for a few weeks, is becoming interested in Al-Anon. She sees the way it's working for me. I gave her a newcomer packet, which she read. She's also been opening up to me about her father and his days battling the bottle.

"I remember I would get so scared around payday," she said. "I didn't know if dad was going to come home that night and if he did, how drunk he would be."

What I'm going through with my wife has brought a lot of my mom's repressed emotions and fears bubbling to the surface. She's in full-on fix-it mode, but as I explain, there isn't anything to fix. I can only focus on myself and the kids and I appreciate her help with them these last few weeks.

I am going through some minor flashbacks when I hear the way she handles my 3-year-old crying.

"What, are you going to cry?" she mocks, making crying sounds herself. "Don't cry."

Crying is OK, as I've learned. Displaying emotions is normal. Hiding them, as we did in my home when I was growing up, is not normal.

I figure one more week of my mom's help is about all I (and the kids) can handle.

As for my wife, she called yesterday and we had a very nice conversation. She sounds good. I really miss her. 

That's all I have for now. I need to get to my step work.