Yes, I could be more decent.

Over the years, I've told my sister to go to hell. On numerous occasions. Without apologies. We're on good terms now. Because she's a recovering alcoholic. She finally took control of her life. But when she wasn't recovering, I had little empathy. Because she had the ability to recover. But chose not to. I reserve my empathy for people with disabilities or diseases for which there's no recovery. Alzheimer's, for instance. And some forms of cancer. I tried to get my sister to kick the booze addiction. Time and again. Tried to get her help. But nothing worked. And I sort of gave up on my sister. Maybe that doesn't say much for me. But my attitude was that I ain't gonna allow her or any alcoholic drag me down with 'em. At some point, I say adios. I remember my sister coming to our step-father's funeral soused. Drunk. To the gills. And I had it out with her. Our step-father died of lung cancer. My sister was diseased, too. With an addiction. Capable of recovery. It was her option. Yes, I know an addiction is an addiction is an addiction. Ain't easy to cope. To deal with the situation. But not impossible. Maybe that makes me a mean bastard. Depends on one's perspective. I occasionally draw lines. Maybe selfishly. In order to protect myself. Overall, I'm a decent guy. But hey, I'll be the first to admit that maybe there are times when I could be more decent. And more understanding. --Jim Broede