Til death do we part...

I hate it when I get e-mails from people who have lost a loved one to alcoholism. My heart breaks for them and all I want is to hold them like a baby to ease the pain. I remember the unbearable stabbing in my heart when Captain Morgan stole my son from me.

I slugged my way through the memorial service with fake smiles and nods as loving friends and family took my hand and told me how sorry they were. My mind raced with sarcastic comments – they weren’t as sorry as I was and NO, I didn’t believe he was better off now. Instead I simply nodded and said “Thank you for coming.”

My older brother died of leukemia. I had the same feeling when he died that I did when my son died. Leukemia stole my brother and I didn’t think he was now in a much better place. His place was with
me and my other brothers. His place was on one of his barges or wheeling and dealing some buy/sell transaction. He was not supposed to be in a pretty box in the ground.

I suppose I feel the same way when anyone I love passes. The initial grief of losing a loved one is overwhelming to me. It takes me a while to calm down and accept what the other mourners are saying to me is just their way of trying to make me feel better. They aren’t being disrespectful. They are showing their love in whatever way they can.

I am grateful for all those who expressed their condolences. It was comforting to be able to see how many people loved my son and my brother. The fact that they simply attended and told him goodbye meant a lot to me. I looked around the room and knew he would be missed.

There were rumblings and discussions of Captain Morgan and what a shame it was that my son’s life was wasted. Those discussions were not directed at me very often. If they had been I would have responded with, WASTED? My son’s life was not wasted. It was cut short but not wasted. I would remind them that he had done a lot of good things, interesting things, productive things during the short time he was on the earth.

Just because someone is addicted to something doesn’t mean that person doesn’t have value. What about all the years when they weren’t an alcoholic? And sometimes they continue to be a productive member of society while also getting into the deeper throes of the bottle.

Alcoholics are a person first and not just an alcoholic. There are people who love this alcoholic person. They are someone’s spouse, parent, sibling, friend even if they may have become estranged as the disease progressed. The memories remain from days before.

The next time you have the misfortune to attend a memorial service, celebration of life, homegoing, funeral… whatever term you use… Instead of saying the deceased is no longer in pain try instead saying something positive about the person. “Your son (mother, father, sister, brother) was a loving person and I’ll miss his beautiful smile.” OR “Your father could be quite a rascal. I’ll miss his mischievousness.” You can even say “Your brother lived on the edge. He had an interesting life.”

I know that alcoholics create havoc, can be mean and not loving at all. Their value system fails and it seems that no one will miss them when they are gone. The fact is no one will miss the alcohol part of the person, but someone will miss the PERSON he was without the alcohol.

Once a person is gone it’s time to take alcohol inspired memories, put them in a box and hide the box away. Someday when the pain subsides, take them out and you can either laugh or cry. Then put them back in the box and burn it. It’s over. It’s done.