I assumed it was a family member - someone on my Dad's side of the family - calling to check on Mom, who had gall bladder surgery today.
It wasn't.
"How are you?"
"Well, not very good at all actually. We have some really bad news."
It was my cousin Frank, calling to say his younger brother, Eddie, had died.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have to confess it was a toss-up, guessing which of Frank's siblings (the oldest or the youngest) could've been the source of the sad news. How bad is that? But with serious alcoholism/substance abuse between the two of them, it could've gone either way. Frank, the second oldest, was always quiet but strong and stable, growing up. He didn't stand out much but that was probably by design in a family raised on alcohol-infused rage and depression.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am writing this because I don't know what to feel. Eddie's death is not a tragedy in the classic sense of the word. A friend/former co-worker died of breast cancer last month, leaving behind a husband and two young boys. She was a smart, funny, gracious woman. That was a tragedy. Not this.
This is something else.
I do feel sorry for my cousin Frank.
He is cleaning up the very last mess his little brother will make.
Is that cold? Maybe.
Is it true? Yes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In quick succession, there were calls with multiple family members.
"He made his own choices."
"He lived a hard life."
"He just couldn't find happiness."
"It's a shame but not surprising."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Apparently he was gone five days before anyone found him. A friend called the police for a wellness check and that was that. An overdose, based on the drugs and paraphernalia found with him.
"I gave up calling him to check in because he never called back."
"He struggled his whole life with alcohol and drugs."
"He chose that way of life."
He was 35 years old.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ironically, Jim was the only one who really said a kind word about Eddie and he met him just a handful of times at family Christmas parties.
"He was a good kid. It's a shame."
I am not at all certain about the 'good kid' part, but it certainly is a shame.
A wasted life - a life wasted, because of addiction. Which runs so very strong in that part of the family, that Frank doesn't drink. He knows the power of heredity - hell, he lived it - and won't risk it. Not for one drop.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the first story about Eddie:
He was four years old. My Dad and Eddie's father, Frank Sr., are returning from errands and pull in the driveway to their family farm. They find Eddie straddling the large fuel tank by the barn, two hands on the hose, gleefully spraying gas all over.
"It's a good thing he's not smoking," said my Uncle Frank.
And he wasn't joking. Eddie started smoking when he was three.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Here's the second story:
Eddie received special permission to be released from jail to attend his mother's funeral. It was extra special because it came from the town sheriff, who also happened to be his brother-in-law at the time.
Eddie makes it to the church for the funeral service but then bolts before the burial and dinner thing after.
The police find him hiding in a pile of laundry at an ex-girlfriend's house. And back to jail he went.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It was kind of a sad joke, based on the Christmas Vacation movie. Every family has a Cousin Eddie.
Someone who isn't quite right, seemingly from birth. Who can't make things work. Who struggles with addiction and other demons.
Da actually used the phrase "bad seed" - which, as unflinchingly cold as I am on this, made me feel a little bit of Yikes, just hearing it.
Here's the thing: It's no longer a statement of belief, but a fact that some people are born with a serious propensity for addiction to drugs and alcohol. It's in their genes. It's not an "if" but a "when" for them.
If it is all a matter of the chemical cocktail inside us, are some people just doomed from the start? Or, with the right environment, the right influence, the right HELP, can they overcome it?
We'll never know with Eddie. But Frank, my cousin Frank, gives me hope.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I am reading: The Ocean at the End of the Lane by Neil Gaiman (Outstanding, fairy tail-ish tome. Such a profoundly excellent, emotional story. Read it read it read it.)
I am listening to: Mom snoring, the air conditioner humming
And I am: Not sad but sorry
No comments:
Post a Comment