Family.

My brother in law-- when he's sober, he's a wonderful loving man. Danger, danger when he's not.

The brother-in-law spent a few weeks in France. Some of it was for a work-away. Some of it was at a Buddhist retreat.

Something happened on his way back to the States. The brother-in-law lost his passport. He made his way to the U.S. embassy and managed to call the Husband. The Husband wired him money to get a new passport.

Something happened after the brother-in-law picked up the money and before he got back to the embassy. The brother in law got drunk. He wound up somewhere. Maybe a hostel. He stayed there for a day. He lost the key to that room.

Since early this morning, the hostel owners and the brother-in-law has been on the phone with the Husband. The brother-in-law is asking for something. Not sure what. Mostly the brother-in-law is crying and saying he's sorry. The Husband has suggested to the room owners that they send the brother-in-law to the hospital to sober up.

The husband has been rescuing brother-in-law for years. Seriously, for years. I remember the husband helping out the brother-in-law over fifteen years ago when the brother-in-law had another melt down over drugs and alcohol.

The Husband is torn and has been reading about loving detachment.