Earlier this week I learned, much to my shock, that a former clemency client recently overdosed and died the same month he turned 44.

It had been a few years since I’d last spoken to L. Based on our last contact, I had no reason to be concerned about his welfare. In fact, L had been on an uphill trajectory for several years. After he got clean, he’d returned to school, got his undergraduate degree. When I first met him in 2016, he was working on his graduate degree. His ultimate goal was to become a licensed clinical professional counselor.

L knew all too well that staying clean was hard. He’d relapsed several times before I met him. His first and second marriages fell apart as a consequence. L wanted nothing more than to help others conquer the same demons he’d faced. L was always looking for novel ways to keep those still using from overdosing and dying. The fact he could not keep himself safe from that fate breaks my heart.

The person who told me L died was himself a recovering addict. He’d just finished telling a rapt audience his own painful addiction story. Thinking that he and my former client might have crossed paths, I asked him if he knew L. “Of course, I know L,” he responded. “But for L,” he said, “I would not be standing here.” How many other lives won’t be spared because L is no longer alive?

I will never know why L relapsed. I know that he had much to live for. He had a son, a life partner, and his work.

I do not know how it feels to be a recovering addict. Many of my clients have been recovering addicts. The first clemency petition I filed was on behalf of a woman who was a recovering addict. By the time she had her clemency hearing, P had been sober for more than a decade.

I will always remember how unimpressed the assistant state’s attorney was with the length of my client’s sobriety. “She’s only been sober for 11 years.” I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something I might regret.

I had a lot of respect for L. I referred people to him -- believing his personal story with addiction gave him the vocabulary to reach those who had yet to admit to themselves they had a problem or were too busy playing the victim card.

I’ve spent the last few days thinking about L and the fragility of sobriety. I now understand why people in recovery proudly announce their sobriety by date.