Today it's been exactly one year since I lost my sister, Lonnie. She past away in utter agony on September 18th of last year....and I wasn't there to say goodbye. It wasn't because I didn't love her. It just was...it's the reality of how I handled the situation. For better or worse, it's how I handled it. Truth is, I couldn't watch the last chapter close. I wanted to remember her the way she was, the sister I loved and worshiped. The funny, carefree, loving, beautiful, up-for-anything if-it-made-you laugh sister. The sister before the alcohol addiction took over. Was it selfish? Yes, it was selfish to avoid her passing. It was selfish to avoid her enabling husband who hated me for calling out the alcoholism at every turn, exposing it to the harsh light of day that everyone seemed to want to avoid. The God's honest truth, the heart of the matter. Nobody wanted to admit to what was killing her. I was supposed to pretend that it was some kind of natural causes that was killing my sister inch by inch, year by year. I couldn't do it. I couldn't find it in my heart to be that ignorant or forgiving. Do I have regrets a year gone by? Sure. I would give anything to talk to her one last time--or just look in her eyes. She had a major stroke two months before she died, so there wasn't conversation to be had. But we understood each other. I should have been there. I should have.
Lonnie's addiction started early. I can remember her drinking booze in my earliest memories. Beer with her friends, having fun. Partying. We grew up in an alcoholic household. Mom a drop-out-of-life-into-bed drunk, dad a very high functioning alcoholic. It's all we knew. Probably seemed pretty normal to Lonnie. By the time I rolled into the family things were bad. Nobody was healthy or happy. Dysfunction was our middle name. Somehow I always knew things were really fucked up. I watched and decided I wanted no part of it, my sister dove in head first. By the time she was in her 20's she was a full-blown alcoholic herself. We ignored it. Until we couldn't anymore. By the time she was my age(45)she was racing headlong into death. She blew out her pancreas, this affected her drastically. She never quit drinking. From the time she was in her 30's we knew she was in trouble. We talked about an intervention. It got serious for all of us (mom, dad and myself) we had all talked about it and decided that we should approach her husband. His reaction? "There's nothing wrong with Lonnie--what are you talking about?" He would give us no backup. We would have no support from him. That's how it continued. She never, ever admitted her addiction. Not once. Never. It seems absurd to me, but that's how it went. I begged her to get help, that I would help her. It was like watching someone drowning. I'm standing safely on the shore, she is sliding deeper and deeper into the depths. I can't tell you how helpless I felt. I knew how much pain she was in, yet I had no way of pulling her out. Life-rings floated past. Lifeboats rejected. In the end she lived and died the way she chose. I have to respect that.
So what have I learned a year down the road? A lot. About myself, about Lonnie, forgiveness, understanding, love. Those things. The fact that no matter how much you love someone they have their own paths to walk down. Their narrative. No matter how much you love someone they may never realize how lovable they are, how amazing, beautiful, gifted---special. If they don't believe it there is nothing on earth that will convince them otherwise. Reality is a bitch until you accept it. I learned there isn't one second of this life that should be wasted on hate, anger, dissatisfaction or unhappiness. That the people you surround yourself with are your world, and that's all that ever needs to be. To open yourself up to love, really open up. It's all there is. To love yourself fully, then open the door to your heart wide to others. Take all the ugly things you have inside of you and really look at them, take them apart. Honestly take yourself apart....and build yourself back again. I did this.I found many things I didn't like, and many things I loved I didn't even know I had. A year later that's where I'm at. Because of Lonnie. There is no time to waste, no time for regrets. My final gift to my sister is my embracing of life...I'm all in. No fear anymore. I will always be honest with myself and all the people I love. I will not seek to fill the empty places with empty pursuits....my soul is full. That was her gift to me, showing me the light. My gift to her is living. Truly living. A year later all I feel is love. I love you, Lonnie. I always will.
