Most of what I put out here is insubstantial crap. This is not a journal. It is my way of trying my hand at humor with a bunch of fluff in between. But sometimes? Sometimes I need to rant. I understand that what I put out here is here ‘for all to see’. I also understand that what I have to say today may upset some of my relatives because it is of a personal nature, but deal with it. These are ‘my’ thoughts and I can share them if I want.
There’s a post I put out last summer regarding my brother’s drinking. If you don’t remember it or haven’t read it please take a moment to read it here.
He’s fallen off and climbed back up on ‘the wagon’ several times since last August. There have been many more trips schlepping him to the ER and an out patient facility. For the most part it seemed he was doing better and trying. His last stab at sobriety has lasted over two months…until a week ago. No one knows what happened. Things seemed to be looking up for him and then BAM!
My mother happened to be out of town enjoying a rare vacation with one of her sisters. It makes me happy that she was able to do this. My husband got her airline ticket with his points and my aunt paid for the hotel room. My parents, like many seniors, are on a fixed income. An income that basically just covers their living expenses, unfortunately they’re supporting my brother on top of it.
While my mom was gone my dad stopped by a few times for a cup of coffee and just to chat. Just to chat? My dad is a man of few words. Few words, but his actions speak volumes. He is the man that would never call into work sick and work his vacation days to make sure he could provide for his family. He is the man who will ask to hold the baby of a woman he just met just to gaze into their eyes. While he was here I had to hand him a tissue to wipe his eyes. He wasn’t crying; his eyes just tear up all the time now because of his age. As he wiped his eyes he told me how he didn’t think he’d live this long and how most of his friends have passed away. That hit me hard.
I know my parents won’t be here forever, but whether it’s another year or ten, I want those years to be happy for them because they deserve it. My blood boils that my brother is robbing them of this. I wish they had the strength to let him go; to make him go.
After my brother’s binge he decided to leave; no one told him to. His truck wouldn’t start so he packed his backpack, grabbed his tent and left on his bicycle. Later in the day my dad realized his truck was gone; this is not good as he lost his license and his insurance has lapsed. In keeping with past scenarios he’ll be back. It might be by his accord, but from experience he’ll most likely have to be picked up from a hospital, an out of state motel, a bar, or some random street where a stranger took pity and made a phone call.
Please know that I love my brother with all my heart. It tears me up to see him struggle with this addiction and I can’t fix it for him, but I also love our parents.
When, and how, will this end?