My husband, Bill, is a bit of a hoarder. Everything he puts his hands on “looks good for something” and he keeps it. After close to 40 years in the same house, the basement was bursting at the seams. The attic and garage were in similar states but that is another story. You would never know from the rest of the house, which has always been pretty tidy, that this disaster was hidden below. It was stressful just knowing that much stuff was there.

Finding things amid the chaos could take hours. I needed a screwdriver one day and braved the basement. I decided right then – enough is enough. I called our Public Works people only to find out I had to wait several months before they would cart away whatever we got out to the curb. To put a positive spin on it, that would give us time to go through the junk. I didn’t relish the task because I knew every item would require a major “discussion” before determining its ultimate destiny.

Then came Superstorm Sandy. It was a terrifying evening with water crashing in windows and threatening our safety. Fortunately the waters didn’t reach the living areas of the house but the basement was completely flooded. I looked down the stairs and saw a freezer float by followed by a group of three duck decoys with a chainsaw on top. A bit surreal. We joked that the ducks saved the chainsaw in case there was a zombie apocalypse.

Once the storm passed, clean up began. We used a borrowed pump to remove thousands of gallons of water from the basement. If the basement was chaotic before, it was a pile of barely recognizable junk now. It’s very easy to decide what to throw out when everything is ruined.

The work was hard but it was more the emotional loss of his stuff that seemed to get Bill down. We spent a whole day just on things we could salvage so he could clean waterskis, duck decoys and other water-resistant stuff instead of dragging bag after bag of unknown treasures to the curb.

Eventually the basement was emptied and sanitized. We got a new furnace, electrical service and water heater. We moved the few belongings we had left back into the cellar. And we were actually relieved not to have all that stuff anymore.

It’s been a few years since that terrible storm and we see in spite of the disaster and chaos, she offered a blessing. Stuff just isn’t important to any of us anymore – even Bill. We’ve been working through the attic and garage. We don’t need a natural disaster to spur us on this time. The tidy areas of our home have gotten a good purge too. And when Bill gets something in his hand that “looks good for something” he has a good answer – toss, sell or donate.

I watch him in the morning and his hands shake as he brews his first pot of coffee. There will be two pots, every day. About halfway through the first pot, his hands stop shaking. And halfway through the second pot, they start shaking again, providing an easy excuse as to why they started shaking in the first place. Too much caffeine. I have a busy day at work.

When he arrives home, the first thing he does is crack a beer. It doesn’t matter if we are walking out the door in two minutes, he will start that beer. If we go to friends, he drinks to be social. If we go sailing, he drinks to relax. If we go to dinner, he drinks to make it special.

If we stay home, one beer turns into two, three and four. Then come the rum nightcaps – one, two and maybe three. When we finally settle in to watch a little TV, he is sound asleep within 15 minutes, his head tipped, appearing to break his neck. And of course, he is snoring that loud resonating snore of a drunk.

Yet he is up the next morning, bright and early, ready for the day, with no evidence of the alcohol abuse from the night before. No headache. No hangover. Nothing but the shake of his hands.

I ask myself – Can someone this functional be an alcoholic? Is he an addict or just someone who enjoys drinking as he claims? And most importantly, I ask – Should I just ignore it?

He is a joy to be with, drinking or otherwise. He grabs life with gusto and we have so much fun. Our life together is wonderful and the envy of all we know. Should I make trouble by bringing this up at all?

He took a stay-cation and one day I left to have lunch with friends. When I came home it was obvious he started on Beer 1 hours before and was probably on about Beer 4 or 5 or maybe 6. The truth was never to be revealed. Granted it was a vacation day but he had a drink in his hand for the next 11 hours. Push had come to shove and I had to say something.

The discussion did not go well. On hindsight I did everything wrong when confronting someone with an addiction. I accused, I called him an alcoholic and I ruined his vacation.

But somehow my words sunk in. It’s been a few weeks and he drinks but not nearly like he did. Just last night, we were discussing another health issue and I mentioned that for what it’s worth, his hands weren’t as shaky. And his immediate answer: Yeah, but I still drink too much.

Step one: Admitting you have a problem.