Tuesday, March 5, 2013

Remembering a Birthday

"I'm not like these other guys," my brother said on more than one occasion while he was a client at our Las Vegas facility the last half of 2000.

But his life story said he was as bad as the other addicts and alcoholics in our program. Maybe worse.

Drinking and drugs cost him a free and clear home. His health. Jobs. When he showed up at TLC he had nothing. Yet he had a hard time identifying with other alcoholics in the rooms.

After six months, a new Pell grant check in his pocket, he told the manager “Fuck you and fuck TLC.” He then left and returned to drinking. He died some six months later at Sunrise Hospital in Las Vegas, May 21, 2001. He died at 60, as did my alcoholic father.

So I guess this blog comes up for me because today’s his birthday. He would've been 72. And had he found recovery he would have had as good a life as I’m having. He had a lot going on before alcohol took over some 20 years earlier. He was a talented singer and musician. He built houses. He was a loving father. But alcohol and drugs eventually trashed his marriages, his self-confidence, and his health.

I seldom regret the past. Yet I wish my brother could have been an example of how one lives with a deadly disease instead of being among the victims.

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