Here I am. Sitting at a bonfire, listening to my mom and her friend, Holly, talk about what’s happening to my dad’s sister, my aunt. I’m welling up with tears just thinking about last time. I can see her limp body lying on the hospital bed, her dirty blonde hair is pushed back is possibly the worst bun ever made, her hands are shaking as she mumbles that she loves us. All of the monitors are beeping and lighting up to tell the doctors how she’s doing. My dad’s arm is wrapping around me, holding me as tightly as he can. We exit her room in critical care and, before we turn the corner to join our family back in the lobby, I stop and hug my dad, letting all of my tears fall. When I look up at him, I realize that he’s crying too. It was a moment I will never forget; it was the first and only time I’ve seen my father cry.
Waking up from my memories, I’m back in the moment. I’m hearing Holly talk about how she needs her friend Lisa to stop drinking because that could end up being her. All of the sudden a few different emotions take over. First and foremost, I’m angry. Angry that she would use my family’s tragedy as an example for other alcoholics to seek help. After all, she isn’t a statistic… she’s a person, with daughters, brothers, a sister, nieces, nephews, and a mom who is more heartbroken than anyone. Second, I’m sad, not only because my aunt is in the hospital for a second time and that this time she probably won’t make it, but because there are other alcoholics out there who are just as amazing as her that have a chance to turn their lives around. Third, I’m actually happy that Lisa has someone who’s trying so hard to get her to change, even knowing that my aunt had a huge support system telling her that she needed to stop.
I’m scared of a few things: spiders, knifes, paper cuts, ect. But currently I have an overwhelming fear of not getting to say goodbye to my aunt Kristin. I think about it every day and have since the first hospital stay was over. I know that she too far in to stop now. It’d be a miracle for her to turn her life around long enough for them to allow her a liver transplant. At this exact moment, she’s lying in a hospital bed while I sit in my own blogging, she is suffering through liver and kidney failure. I wish I could do something to keep her here longer, she’s too young to die. But the reality is that no one can save her except herself at this point. I’m hoping that tomorrow I’ll be going to the hospital and that I’ll get that chance to see her before she’s gone.
Having an alcoholic in your family isn’t easy, especially in a family as close as mine. It’s a constant struggle to tell yourself to stop worrying about it because you can’t really do much at this point. It’s made even more difficult by the fact that she refuses rehab and claims that she can do it herself, though it’s next to impossible. I can’t believe what’s happening to her given how great of a person she is. I just hope she knows how much we all love her and that she will most certainly be missed ❤