Have you known and loved someone you couldn't help? And you had to watch as they slowly killed themselves?
I have. We dated for a year in the late 80s. He was a great guy when he was sober, and he was the life of the party when he was drinking to excess. He was a functional alcoholic who had a fabulous job, was always there on time, and put in a full day's work. He never missed appointments or dates. He was popular, and loved by friends and family alike. Sadly, he could not show up anywhere or for anyone without relying on alchohol and it grew worse with each passing year.
He continued on his downhill swing and died somewhere in Oklahoma in the mid 2000s, in a shabby hotel, alone and forgotten. His "friends" in those latter days found him dead, threw him out in the alley, covered his body with an old, dirty mattress they found laying by the dumpster, and left him to rot like trash.
A sad ending to what was once a promising life.
I saw his mom today in the coffee shop. I had originally planned to take my coffee to go, but sat down with her to have a chat instead. I let her talk as long as she wished, about him, her memories of that once bright young man, her hopes for him, her regrets that she couldn't help him, her guilt and heartache over what his life had become in the end... of his final demise...
She needed to know her boy wasn't forgotten and that he lived on, if only in the hearts of those who loved him once upon a time. So I spoke to her of happy memories, of his kindness, of his laughter and zest for life. We reminisced, we shed tears, we spoke of our love for the shining boy with so much promise, and we let him live again for this afternoon.
Sadly, her heart will never again be whole. There is a piece missing - one that cannot be found or replaced. Her loss is too deep - too painful. Her grief knows no bounds or time limits. It weighs her down like a sack of rocks.
I could have left her there alone. I could have stayed, only to changed the subject. I could have told her to just deal with it, that it was too long ago, he brought it on himself and she should move on. But all of that would have been cruel, so I chose to sit with her and her grief, to give of my time, to maybe help her remember the good times rather than the bad, maybe help her to smile again...if only for a little while. It's what you do when you care.
Unfortunately, I see so many people here and in the real world, that simply don't get it. They think a couple weeks and someone should be over whatever it is. Grieving doesn't work that. There is no magic cure - there is no set time frame until it slinks back to where ever it came from and the sun comes back out right on cue as though nothing happened.
No.... When grief comes to visit, it's like the free loading, smelly uncle who moves in one afternoon and won't leave. His foul stench permeates everything, the furniture buckles under the weight of him sitting around refusing to leave, there are no groceries left in the fridge or the cabinets, and there's nothing you can do to get rid of him. He stays as long as he stays - stessing your mind, stealing your energy, and leaving a dark cloud over your life and home.
The only option is to sit there, feeling hopeless, feeling the weight of all the negative energy, and wishing like hell he would leave, but having to share your space with an undesirable instead. That's the reality of grief - there's nowhere to run. You've got to sit with it, feel it, and realize it's not going anywhere until it damn well chooses to.
So be kind to those who are struggling, even if you don't understand it. Offer a little grace. Do those small things that don't cost you anything - they are the most important. Someone might be hanging by a thread. You might be the one person to keep that thread from breaking that day. You know....you don't have to understand anything, except how to show a little kindness.
He continued on his downhill swing and died somewhere in Oklahoma in the mid 2000s, in a shabby hotel, alone and forgotten. His "friends" in those latter days found him dead, threw him out in the alley, covered his body with an old, dirty mattress they found laying by the dumpster, and left him to rot like trash.
A sad ending to what was once a promising life.
I saw his mom today in the coffee shop. I had originally planned to take my coffee to go, but sat down with her to have a chat instead. I let her talk as long as she wished, about him, her memories of that once bright young man, her hopes for him, her regrets that she couldn't help him, her guilt and heartache over what his life had become in the end... of his final demise...
She needed to know her boy wasn't forgotten and that he lived on, if only in the hearts of those who loved him once upon a time. So I spoke to her of happy memories, of his kindness, of his laughter and zest for life. We reminisced, we shed tears, we spoke of our love for the shining boy with so much promise, and we let him live again for this afternoon.
Sadly, her heart will never again be whole. There is a piece missing - one that cannot be found or replaced. Her loss is too deep - too painful. Her grief knows no bounds or time limits. It weighs her down like a sack of rocks.
I could have left her there alone. I could have stayed, only to changed the subject. I could have told her to just deal with it, that it was too long ago, he brought it on himself and she should move on. But all of that would have been cruel, so I chose to sit with her and her grief, to give of my time, to maybe help her remember the good times rather than the bad, maybe help her to smile again...if only for a little while. It's what you do when you care.
Unfortunately, I see so many people here and in the real world, that simply don't get it. They think a couple weeks and someone should be over whatever it is. Grieving doesn't work that. There is no magic cure - there is no set time frame until it slinks back to where ever it came from and the sun comes back out right on cue as though nothing happened.
No.... When grief comes to visit, it's like the free loading, smelly uncle who moves in one afternoon and won't leave. His foul stench permeates everything, the furniture buckles under the weight of him sitting around refusing to leave, there are no groceries left in the fridge or the cabinets, and there's nothing you can do to get rid of him. He stays as long as he stays - stessing your mind, stealing your energy, and leaving a dark cloud over your life and home.
The only option is to sit there, feeling hopeless, feeling the weight of all the negative energy, and wishing like hell he would leave, but having to share your space with an undesirable instead. That's the reality of grief - there's nowhere to run. You've got to sit with it, feel it, and realize it's not going anywhere until it damn well chooses to.
So be kind to those who are struggling, even if you don't understand it. Offer a little grace. Do those small things that don't cost you anything - they are the most important. Someone might be hanging by a thread. You might be the one person to keep that thread from breaking that day. You know....you don't have to understand anything, except how to show a little kindness.
56-60, F