I'm Steve, an alcoholic.

Like a crossroad reached and higher paths taken, I can never fully know the pain and failure I left averted. One of the reasons I will always need meetings is because there I will get a glimpse of that morbid menu. I need those reminders as a contrast to the very different life I enjoy today. Last night I sat with those I love most, the youngest on my lap before a crackling fire, and listened to the music of their laughter and, in a too-rare moment of gratitude, understood just how great a miracle made that moment possible. My children do not remember the ever-present beer bottle or the irrational rages that bubbled to the surface over the most insignificant irritation. That man is dead, thank God, and the man originally intended walks in his place. Miracles did not end on a Galilean lake 2000 years ago. In conference rooms and church basements across the world they still happen. I know. I am one such miracle.
-Steve Q.