As I drove to the service, I thought about the many sharings the couple had made about their son. They were struggling to not let their anxiety about him ruin their lives. They loved him so much but didn't know what to do to help him. Others shared about how detaching with love had helped them with loved ones who were addicts or alcoholics. How they had learned to not toss and turn with worry but realize that their loved ones also had a Higher Power. Some how those words seemed hollow to me when thinking about the loss of their 33 year old son. Would I think that there was nothing I could do after such a loss? Or would I be thinking that perhaps there would be one more thing I could try? Somehow it all sounds right when the person is alive but once they are dead from the disease, what then?
All of that changed though when I heard the couple and their remaining child, a beautiful young woman, share their memories of their son. They all said what a big heart he had, and how much he cared about others, and what an important part music had in his life. He was funny, intelligent, articulate, talented, and loved life and his family. The parents talked about their son with so much love and with calmness and peace. They said that they hoped that he had found his own peace now. Their words indicated to me an inner peace and acceptance and even joy as they shared stories about him. His sister regretted he would not be there to share her life, or joke with her. She said that she didn't want to give the impression that he was being exalted too much because he could be a jerk as a big brother at times. There was laughter and tears and so much love.
I listened to their words and those of others expressing how loving and good this young man was. How utterly normal he sounded with his love for music, family, friends, pizza, goofy movies, and singing. I watched the pelicans flying over, heard the waves on the beach, and saw the sun shining on the water. And I thought that maybe some people are just too good for this world--too sensitive, too caring. Maybe his heart was big and his love was big, but somehow he didn't really feel a lot of love for himself. I don't know. But he sure sounded like a person I would have liked.
Those parents are living all of us parent's worst fear. Somehow, our HP seems to come in and carry us and comfort us even through our worst fears though. I have seen it several times after the loss of a much loved child from an overdose. I am glad you went to the service Syd. That was kind of you.
ReplyDeletei am glad they could find the beauty beyond the addiction and that the person beyond the disease was still there if nothing else in memory...still sad...
ReplyDeleteI see many wonderful people that have been overtaken by this disease.
ReplyDeleteSo many forget that THERE IS A PERSON IN THERE. It isn't just a drug addled body.
Yes, sometimes it is hard to do what we need to do to take care of ourselves but the reality is sometimes no matter what we do for ourselves or for another there is nothing that will stop the monster from taking another.
If you get a chance Syd share with these parents and sister that here are many out here they do not know wrapping their arms around them with love.
I think that so many of these things are just too mysterious and mis-understood, as well, for us to come up with any neat way to tie the bow on the package. Some of the most beautiful people I've ever known have been addicts of one sort of another. And, some of the least-beautiful people too. But the addiction is not always the defining characteristic of a person, is it?
ReplyDeleteSometimes I see addiction as a deadly disease. I view depression this way too. Often, they go hand-in-hand. So...two deadly diseases, joined in one person. The odds are often slim for survival.
I'm glad you got to go to the service. I am glad the family seems to have peace. Beautiful post, Syd, and not one filled with the cliches which so many would want to use. You have a good brain. You use it. You think.
I think this world is a mighty rough place for so many sensitive and loving people. I see it happen time and again and it is so painful. I truly hope that there is a better place for them.
ReplyDeleteThanks for your caring words, Syd.
Beautiful post. I've often thought the same about my son. Yes , he is manipulative and ugly in the throes of his disease but he is also loving, caring, sweet. A great artist and musician as well. Sometimes, I have gotten so caught up in the ugliness that I forget that. Thank you for reminding me that the man who makes my heart break also never fails to say I love you every time I speak to him.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful post. I sometimes forget when my son is in the throes of his disease that he is a loving, caring soul. An artist and musician who writes words that touch your heart. Thank you for reminding me.
ReplyDeleteIn the last six months I've had two friends/family member lose a son. Both times it rocked me to the core. I can detach and get peace intermittently but the idea of giving him back to my higher power is too much to even imagine. But, if I think about his tremendous heart and understand that maybe it is God's mercy taking away their suffering, then I can find some peace. I know it must mean a lot to them to have the support of you and the others in their Al Anon group there.
ReplyDeleteI was so sad to read your story this morning and my heart and prayers go out to this young man's family.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful post, Syd. When I hear about an overdose, I think of someone who didn't intend to die but was too afraid to live. At the heart of an addict is someone who feels unworthy. The soil of the soul has to be ready to hear the seeds shared by others and many never make the connection. But I believe death is a new beginning so life goes on in another form. Our sadness is temporary on this earth.
ReplyDeleteI understand what you mean about the words sounding hollow, Syd. It seems as if this family did all they could to accept the situation and detach as best as possible, however there is no skirting the pain, frustration and emptiness that follows such a loss. I hope that there are others in the community like yourself who follow the program, but truly understand the intensity of grief when a bright light goes out. I'm haunted by your beautifully written post, and my heart goes out to this young man's family.
ReplyDeleteSo sad I hate this disease! A program friend of mine just lost her friend as well over the weekend to this disease. So heart breaking!
ReplyDeleteMany times where self worth fails anger and rage fill the gaps until you get your sense of being wanted back.
ReplyDeleteMaybe their minds are simply more at ease, now that they aren't agonizing over his safety and happiness ... I can understand that
ReplyDeleteI like to believe that going to Alanon helps everyone around me including strangers I have not met. This is one way I contribute to the world in making it a better place now and in the future. One step at a time with love and compassion toward self and others.
ReplyDeleteHi, Syd. How sad. Hopefully, they can find some peace.
ReplyDeleteThis makes me cry. Thank God he is at peace now. God bless your friends. May they continue in Al-Anon to ease their grief.
ReplyDeleteThank you for the post. It brought tears to eyes and heart. Keeping that family in my prayers for their loss. Your post struck close to home as I was sharing with an Al-Anon friend just this morning, that I catch myself talking myself through what I would do, how I would reach, how I would perceive myself if I were to lose my husband to the disease. I suppose that is a survival tool of mine. When I read your post and the words they shared about their son, I could relate a lot of those feelings and words for my husband. The power and courage this program can give us to learn how to separate the person from the disease. At least I know that has been true for me. I agree with Christina, I hope they keep coming back as they grieve. Thank you again for your share.
ReplyDelete