Today a friend died, aged only mid 30s, of “complications of liver disease.” Basically, alcohol killed him. No one expected it to happen at this moment but everyone knew he was desperately ill, on and off, for the last couple of years. People politely didn’t mention it when he was alive and now, on social media (and this will go on for some time) people are rightly paying tribute to him and his particular talent and brilliance in a niche artistic area (which I will not give to avoid outing). Sometimes someone says “passed away from liver disease” but no one mentions alcohol. In my case I quit drinking 3 years ago which was a big deal and a wonderful life changer for me and my family — and the thing that really triggered me to do it was watching this friend, essentially, die in front of my eyes then. I never told him that or discussed alcohol with him, but AIBU to wish that we could say out loud what killed him as part of our mourning of him? If he had cancer we wouldn’t hesitate. This was not his fault and it doesn’t make us love him less. But I know that I have a particular take on this because of my own journey - and I know it’s not about me.