“I do not fear death. I will pass away sooner than most people who read this, but that doesn’t shake my sense of wonder and joy . . . I am grateful for the gifts of intelligence, love, wonder and laughter.” –Roger Ebert
Thursday mornings used to be the most predictable time of the week for me. Get to work, fire up the computer, but before I would clock in, I’d fly over to rogerebert.com to check out the new reviews. Roger was the only movie critic I trusted, but the more I read, the more he became something more than a movie critic.
Soon I was reading far more than just his movie reviews. I discovered his blog, the outlet through which he poured out himself to his readers. This man was a thinker, and though I often found myself in disagreement with his views and beliefs, I felt a connection with him.
When I picked up his book, Life Itself, I realized just how much we had in common. Like me, Roger grew up attending Catholic school. We both were taught by Dominican nuns. Though our beliefs in God today differ, I found myself nodding in agreement with many of his ideas. But where I found the most common ground with Roger wasn’t in his love of movies, his aspirations as a writer, or Catholic upbringing.
Roger was a recovering alcoholic. When I began reading his blog, I too was struggling with my disease. Roger truly embraced the twelve steps, and it was his blog entry on Alcoholics Anonymous that made me finally decide to take the plunge to attend my first meeting.
Roger took his last drink in 1979 and attended his first meeting in the Chicago Sun-Times building. In his blog, Roger talked about his first meeting:
“I was very nervous. I stopped in the men’s’ room across the hall to splash water on my face, and walked in. Maybe thirty people were seated around a table. I knew one of them. We used to drink together. I sat and listened….That was the beginning of a thirty years’ adventure. I came to love the program and the friends I was making through meetings, some of whom are close friends to this day. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.”
By breaking anonymity, Roger gave me the hope that the program would work for me too.
Today, June 18, would have been Roger’s 71st birthday. Today, I remember my hero.
By sharing my story, I hope to continue the tradition of sharing our stories, in hope that other struggling alcoholics will give the program a try.