Which brings me back to Annandale. And my brother. Loyal readers of this blog know that he passed away back in January, beloved by many, missed by all. Still, when I was composing his euology for his memorial Mass, I did decide to touch upon Rick's one true flaw, and how he courageously overcame it, albeit perhaps, too little too late.

Rick struggled most his adult life with substance abuse. The substances came in many forms, but that's beside the point. The point is, he went through a terrible cycle of conquering his demons, only to fall back into old habits. Again and again. Only to rise up once more. And fall.

In his closing months, Rick became completley sober, and he did it, somehow, cold turkey. No more alcohol. No more tobacco. I was so proud of him, but no more than he was of himself. I was puzzled, though, as to how he actually did it, after so many years of failing.

A handful of Rick's friends from A.A. came to his funeral. And in talking to them, I think I learned the answer. He did it by leaning on them. Good, decent, gentle men and women whose sole ambition seems to be helping each other, and helping themselves. What a great gift they gave Rick--the courage to live out his life, clear-eyed and clear-headed for perhaps the first time in a very long time.

There's a something I'm so glad I didn't miss.