Stone (Pittsburgh Titans 2)

“Hi, Harlow,” I say with the rest of the group. She glances at me and smiles.

“I’ve had a good week. Work has been good, and while I had one stressful case that tested the limits of my patience, not once have I wanted a drink.”

There are murmurs of praise throughout the group.

“As you know, it was a rough few weeks prior to that with the death of my friend Brooks.”

I’m not surprised she mentioned my brother’s name, but with it comes a jolt of awareness that my brother’s problems were very real and known by some of the people in this room. A few nod their heads in empathy.

“I’m processing. It’s getting easier to accept he’s gone. I know there were several days when I wanted nothing more than to rip into a bottle of vodka, which was my drink of choice. I even went on a walk one day with the intention of buying a bottle, but when I got to the store, I kept on walking. I kept on walking because I knew Brooks was watching over me. I knew how much he battled for his sobriety, and I knew he would walk past that store too. I also knew Brooks would never want me to crumble over my grief for him. He would have been so disappointed. Probably would’ve haunted me.”

A rumble of laughter echoes through the room, and I can’t help but smile.

“I just want everyone to know that it’s okay to have those weak moments. I know I will have more in my lifetime. But I also know that I have the strength to overcome them. Everyone in this room has the strength to overcome. And if you find yourself in a weak moment and you feel like you need just that bit of a bolster—like the way I felt when I walked by that liquor store and I knew Brooks was up above, supporting me—I’m here for you. AA is here for you. There’s always a meeting within reach where our community can help you.”

Harlow sits down, and the woman on her other side puts an arm around her shoulders and draws her in for a quick hug.

Harlow glances at me, and I say, “That was amazing.”

After Harlow’s testimony, three more people offer their stories. One is a young woman whose husband is an alcoholic and used to attend AA regularly but has fallen off the wagon. She’s here to support the others and to be supported in return. I don’t know this lady, but the fact that she feels like an island because her husband is drinking again and won’t get help makes me want to seek out the motherfucker and beat some sense into him.

Within the space of about an hour, listening to a handful of people battle this addiction, my eyes have been opened to a world I frankly never knew existed.

For the first time in a very long time, I have a deep, burning admiration for my brother for taking the steps to get help and for working hard to stay sober.

When everyone is done sharing, a contribution basket is passed around. “AA is self-supported by its members,” Harlow murmurs as she drops a twenty in the basket. I whip out my wallet and grab the same, offering it to the till.

John closes with some information on upcoming meetings and seminars, then finishes up with the Lord’s Prayer. We make quick goodbyes, although Harlow told me that she often stays to socialize and meet new people. I think for tonight, though, she knew that might be hard on me.

Harlow and I walk back to our building, and I ask her questions about Brooks that start percolating while I process the meeting.

Did he stay sober the entire time?

How did his drinking affect him?

What did he like to drink?

Did it affect his playing?

Did people on the team know?

Did my father know?

As with many things in my brother’s life, his alcoholism was a secret to most people. No one in the family knew about it, and only his coach on the team.

And Harlow, of course, who attended every meeting with him. She said sometimes they would only go to a meeting once a week. In the off-season, sometimes they would go every day.

“There were times when your brother would have a really bad day. He was seeing a guy once, and he really cared for him. The guy broke it off because Brooks wouldn’t come out of the closet, and that was the closest I’d ever seen your brother to breaking down and drinking. We stayed up all night talking, and we went to a meeting early the next day. He fought that battle and won, knowing the war would never be over. Your brother was one of the strongest men I’ve ever known.”