So I went with my friends up to New Hampshire this weekend to spread the ashes of one of our group. He died in a horrible idiotic accident this past December. I got the call that he was dead while I sat by a pool on vacation in Mexico. He was an alcoholic, a wonderful guy, but his drinking killed him. He didn't die due to liver disease, or drunk driving, or alcohol poisoning. He died because he made a series of decisions that were driven by the fact that he wouldn't stop drinking. His wife, a beautiful woman stuck it out for 25 years, but she couldn't watch him kill himself any longer. So they sold their home and separated, he's dead today because of where he decided to move. He thought it was going to be temporary. It was. That was the last alcohol driven decision, but over the course of his life there was one after the other, after the other. Frank wanted to get sober, he really did, but he wouldn't make the decision to go to any lengths to get there. He was so loved, but it wasn't enough. I hope his story makes just one person here think about the road they're on and reflect on where it may lead.