I’ve talked about family members that I’ve lost. They couldn’t get out from under feeling hopeless.
My husband left me, I withdrew from subs. On a Friday he sent me a picture of his work truck filled with clothes. He was coming back home.
This all happened in this August.
I was so relieved to have him home. I had a job doing customer service from home. I worked 10 hours a day. He would poke his head in or we’d talk between my calls.
He was home about an hour and I got one of those life changing calls. The ones that punch you in the gut. My husband said you have to take this, it’s your dad. I immediately knew….this is it. Your mom has been found dead. She’s overdosed and it’s over. No no no, please don’t give it to me, just find out what’s wrong. You HAVE to take this, your dad needs to talk to YOU.
My dad (well stepdad, but he’s a good one, we don’t say step unless I’m talking to my real dad)
There’s been an accident. Your uncle is dead. I started screaming. I backed up to my wall.
I looked at my husband….he’s dead he’s dead he’s dead.
Wait that’s not all.
We are at the police station.
Your brother was driving the truck.
Your brother is in jail.
As quickly as I could, I let my job know I was leaving. The girl that had hid in her room for over a year, couldn’t get to her family fast enough. The girl that had been avoiding that brother’s call had to get to him.
I could not imagine how he felt. I could not believe my uncle was gone.
This is my baby brother, he’s actually a grown man…but always a baby brother to me. This is the same brother I helped raise, the one that prayed for his family to speak again, the one that loved all of us, the one that isn’t perfect, but the one that was in church every service. The one that stilled wished moma would do better, the one that had been helping my uncle off and on for a year. The one that gave him a place to stay, and fed him and helped him with his needs. The only rule was don’t drink.
My uncle….oh goodness, he was in such a dark place. My uncle was addicted to medicine. But that’s such an expensive habit. He couldn’t afford it. So instead he tried to drown those cravings with alcohol. This is an awful feeling. You can’t get what you feel like you need, so here let me drink till I pass out.
He was gone.
My moma’s baby brother was gone. This was the same uncle I grew up with. The creative sweet guy that always included me. The one that poked toothpicks in eggs and helped me make a town with our egg people. Our egg people created an old western complete with a huge train track. The same uncle that could pull edible leaves out of the ground and feed me. The uncle that made a small bomb, just for fun. The same uncle that helped me get my mom’s credit card information so we could sponsor a hungry child. The one that watched The Twilight Zone and Inspector Gadget with me. The one that I looked up to for years, and this fascination followed me through adulthood. My husband and him weren’t the best of friends, 2 cocky men normally battled. But secretly they liked each other, I fully believe this.
This was also the same uncle that beat cancer. But cancer started pushing him down mentally. My uncle’s stance turned to why are we here. Why is life so painful.
This uncle changed with his addictions. I took my children to his house one Christmas. He steadily drank. Eventually he stood up and put his eyes on my oldest daughter. Every word was a put down about my husband. I could see the shock in my daughters face, and I could feel it in my own body. I immediately grabbed our belongings and tried to leave. Then my drunk uncle decided to grab my babies car seat, with him buckled in. He was 2 months old and I kept grabbing and grabbing. Please put him down!! No, your not leaving, your ruining my Christmas!
After what seemed like so long, my dad was able to get the seat and head to my truck. Once there the craziness continued…uncle hanging on the truck, me shaking, kids screaming, family trying to pull him off.I was finally able to pull off. I watched in the rear view mirror as my brother tried to calm my uncle down. I watched my uncle spiral around, arms going crazy. I saw those arms make contact with my moma. I saw my moma fall to the ground which resulted in a broken arm.
I hated my uncle. Hated him.
For years he tried to apologize, go away I’d say.
I saw him in May of this year. I walked right up and hugged him and said oh I love you. I hope you are well and you look so good. He just cried. It’s ok, it’s ok!! By this time, I had my own regrets which made it easier to see his side. Not agree, but see….
This death is ripping my family apart. The family my brother prayed would come together. It’s like they feel we have to pick sides. This was an awful accident. My brother meant no harm, he was trying to fix people.
I don’t know what will happen with my brother, but I know I’m praying. I know 2 days before this happened, I begged him to leave everyone alone. Focus on your own family or others will drag you down. It’s not your job to save everyone.
I’ll end this by saying all this happened 5 days after I came off subs. I have no doubt had I been on the medicine, I would have continued to hide in my room. I would have missed supporting my brother and grieving for my uncle. God knew what He was doing every step of my path.