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An Act of Love

24Saturday, my friends brought me a meeting, a recovery meeting. I so appreciate this simple act of love and kindness, this act of service, my lifeline to the program of Alcoholics Anonymous. Although, it must be hard on these friends to bear witness to my deterioration, they are faithful in their mission.

I've been around the program of Alcoholics Anonymous long enough to know that the motivation is not purely altruistic. They get insurance of another day of sobriety; they get the opportunity to live their lives happy, joyous, and free. Even though, they have their choice of many venues to acheive this goal; they could attend any meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous, work with a sponsee, work with a sponsor, or any other person for the purpose of recovery. Heck, they could go take a meeting to another person confined to a nursing home, hospital, or in a recovery center, or incarcerated in a jail or prison. But, they spend time and resources to come to bring a meeting to me.

I am grateful. I am honored. I am fortunate. I am in awe of their commitment, their tenacity, the degree of their dedication. I truly do not know if I would have done the same. That they are a core group of old-timers increases my awe and gratitude. Note: the term "old-timers" is indicative of time in the program of Alcoholics Anonymous working the steps. Through their experience, strength, and hope, I derive continued strength and hope to get through my experience of dying with dignity sober. Note: my use of the term "death with dignity" is not a euphemism for suicide in the face of a terminal illness. I will be passing on "au natural" or possibly with a bit of morphine on board to ease the pain. I'm no hero. 

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