At one of the first meetings of Alcoholics Anonymous I ever attended, the speaker said to us all, “If you stick around here long enough you will go to a lot of funerals.”
I don’t know that I completely understood what he meant at the moment, or if I really even cared enough about people yet, or for that matter developed enough empathy for people, to actually be present enough to comprehend what we was saying.
Nevertheless, more than three years later, as I have attended meeting after meeting, shared happy moments with fellow alcoholics, not to mention, walked through change after change, chaos, and the daily woes and pressures of life, I have watched ours fellows fall and succumb to alcohol and drugs as frequently as raindrops fall during a rain storm.
I have watched as our fellows have built and rebuilt their lives, and even been a part of the process, only to watch, confusion and tear-filled eyes as they fall victim to the thoughts in their head and then drink away all the progress.
I learned some news this week and tears of fell from my eye. One of us died!
I just saw him a couple of months ago, clean, sober, smiling, I thought! I also thought about how much I hate this disease of addiction or alcoholism, who is taking the only people that I have really ever related to and felt empathy for.
He was one of us, someone’s brother, son, cousin, grandchild and friend.
He was the love of someone’s life. He was someone’s dream come true.
He had a smile that could light up a room, and a presence, when clean and sober, that was comforting, nurturing, and nearly angelic!
As it turned, like many of us, he was quite sensitive. Apparently, he was even more sensitive and fragile than any of us could have ever imagined.
No matter how much he tried to stop drinking alcohol nor how much help he received or assurance and unconditional love we gave him, he just could not stop drinking.
All the praying from fellow alcoholics could not help, as he could not seem to keep himself from the bottle.
The bottle took him to his final resting place.
He dealt with the pain, regret and frustration the best way he knew how, with a drink in his hand. Consequently, he is not with us anymore. As a result, there are many with heavy hearts, mine is one of them. God Bless us all!
Let’s be happy in his absence, as he has returned home to be with his higher power.
No more does he have to experience lonely cries, enduring pain, nor fatal stupors.
Let the loss of his beautiful and precious life be a lesson to you. You never have to take another drink.
You don’t have to be a victim of your alcoholic or addict mind, nor do you have to fall prey to or be a casualty to the disease of alcoholism, or addiction for that matter.
Perhaps the loss of his life could be a lesson for us all that remain. He would have liked it that way, an indirect way to be of service.
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