The house is so empty without Katie. She fills up a room, the whole house with her energy. Last night I was looking at the music Mike has on his computer. Looking for appropriate music for a slideshow for him. She took over and spent a lot of time listening and commenting on the various songs. Music was one connection she had with Mike that they both valued. She remembered that she and Mike used to pool their money as children and buy one tape. There was much discussion about what to buy. The first tape they bought was Madonna's first tape.
Some of the songs tripped memories and made her cry.
We talked last night about the frustrations of trying to relate to Mike. Katie felt that he locked her out and wouldnt let her close. I felt that he was not a nice person at times.. many times. If this blog is to have value I have to tell it like it is. Otherwise, what would be the point?
I once told my therapist about an unkind thing Mike said to me that really hurt. My therapist said, 'That was the disease talking'.
Alcoholism is a horrible horrible disease. It has the capacity for inflicting pain in ways that can not be imagined. It robs mothers of their sons, sisters of their brothers, fathers of their sons. It is ruthless. But I must declare that Mike chose alcoholism. It wasnt a simple choice. The choices he made in life were colored by his deep deep struggles with bipolar disorder and depression. No one can know what he suffered. But he didnt have to suffer. There is medication that really really helps. I know, because Im on it. Mike went on it for a while. While he was on it he had two years of light and clarity. Those who were with him for those two years tell me that he was a wonderful person, easy to be with, friendly, outgoing.I remember those years too. Why oh why did he stop taking the medication that could have saved his life? WHY?
Dear Sallee and Frank,
ReplyDeleteI can very much relate to Katie's difficulties relating to her brother. My brother (who was 62 at the time) died almost two years ago. He was a pain in the you-know-what and I shared that at his Memorial. I didn't want to make my brohter out to be an angel just because he died fairly young and unexpectedly.
So, at the Memorial I shared my story. My brother was a "do it my way" kind of man. If he wanted to help you he would. If he didn't, no amount of pleading could change his mind. Stubborn, you might say. Some in the family say...plain mean!
The night I returned home after my brother's death, I fell asleep on the couch. I awoke some time after midnight to hear Leonard Cohen singing a song called "Bird on a Wire". I had never heard of Cohen and never heard of this song.
As I woke slowly out of a deep, exhausted sorrowful sleep, I began to make out the words...gist of which is "I have tried in my way to be free." As I listened, I had this sense that my brother was telling me he really had no thoughts of being mean, but he did have every intention of living life his way.
Somehow this really comforted me. Yes, he was still a poophead (in my book)at times, but he was honest.
And I thank you for being honest here and sharing in such a deeply meaningful way about your beloved son. It means a lot for others to hear and learn, and believe they too can be truthful and honest, even if it's not so pretty.
Many blessings be lifted to you and the whole clan.