How Long Must We Sing This Song?

I can't believe the news today

Oh, I can't close my eyes

And make it go away

How long?

How long must we sing this song?

How long, how long?

When I got the call from my brother Jim about 10 o’clock on Thursday night, lying in my hotel room, that line just kept running through my head.  How long must we sing this song? My nephew Michael had passed, he overdosed on drugs, and really, in regard to that part of it, that’s all I know, and to be honest, I really don’t want or need to know anymore.  I woke up many times that night, kept thinking, did this really happen, and then would realize, yes, it had.  I couldn’t make it go away, no matter how hard I tried.

Whether it’s depression, suicide, alcohol, drugs, addiction, an overdose, my due apologies to Shakespeare for butchering his beautiful line, but “a rose by any other name would smell as putrid”.  I know I have no facts, no statistics, purely anecdotal, but I just feel like we are losing way too many young people, and as I note, I really don’t care which one it is or was, it’s devastating to lose any one of them.  I’ve just grown too weary of seemingly fighting a losing battle.  But those of you who know me, you do know, I won’t ever give up this fight. 

While I know a lot about depression, and far more than I’d like about suicide, I know absolutely nothing about addiction or the potential result, an overdose.  I’m pretty passionate about depression and suicide, and I found I met my match in my niece Molly when it comes to addiction.  As we talked, what struck me was one of my favorite lines that I’ve learned from our yoga instructor, Megan Kearney:  “Your brain is lying to you”.  I’ve found so many times through my life through depression that my brain lies to me, and it tells me that I don’t need help, I don’t need counseling, whatever.  It would appear from talking to Molly that those who suffer from addiction face a similar battle against a lying brain.

While there are many who would love to help those of us with depression or addiction issues, sadly, it’s not an easy road to help those in need.  It has to come from within them for a change to happen.  Jim had said to me that he feels like he failed, he should have done more.  I feel the same way, Laurel and I had thought about buying Michael a yoga book that dealt with addiction, I had thought about reaching out to Michael, and I didn’t.  So I also carry a certain level of guilt.  But, as I said, it comes from within the person, and until they see a change is needed, it just won’t happen.  I’ve often quoted the following from “A River Runs Through It”.  It is from a sermon from Reverend Maclean after the death of his son, and unfortunately, there is too much truth to it.

“Each one of us here today will, at one time in our lives, look upon a loved one and with need, ask the same question: ‘We are willing to help, God, but what, if anything, is needed?’  For it’s true we can seldom help those closest to us.  Either we don’t know what part of ourselves to give, or more often than not, the part we have to give is not wanted.  And so it is those whom we live with and should know who elude us, but we can still love them.  We can love completely without complete understanding.”

So again, I ain’t giving up, but this time, I’m going to take a completely different approach to see if I can gain some traction.  And as people who know me know, my goal with a blog post is to reach one person.  If one person reads this, and they get something out of it, I consider it a success.  I’ll call it the “It’s a Wonderful Life” approach, and again, my apologies to Shakespeare, who I keep butchering, “I come to praise Michael, not to bury him”.  I remember:

• I remember when Michael was a baby, when he was a toddler.  He had a big, round head, but

even bigger brown eyes.  His eyes were so expressive, he was mischievous and laughed a lot.  One of my favorite stories was the time he was walking in the yard at my parents’ house, and he looked down, pointed and said, “Poop!  Right there!  Pappap, you clean it up!”  I’m not quite sure Pappap saw quite the humor we all saw, but we laughed and laughed.  Michael also always seemed to be at the center of everything.  The picture at the right is from one of our family reunions.  Michael is the

one in the red shirt and sunglasses being held by my Uncle Bob.  Each year, we would do family pictures for each of my Mom’s sisters and brother’s immediate families.  Michael appeared in every single family picture that year, wearing those sunglasses.

• Right after I got married to Laurel, Jim and I were taking a CPA review course, and we would be gone all day on Saturdays.  Michael and his sister Emily, who was one year older, would spend the day at my parents’ house with Laurel.  One thing about Michael, he really didn’t like to nap.  So when Jim and I would get home that early evening, Michael was pretty tired and grumpy.  I remember him standing up against the couch, and he’d be dead asleep.  You’d try to get him to lie down, but that would just make him mad.  Some other “moments” from those Saturdays that I loved:

• Laurel once got the wisdom of Solomon when Michael and Emily were fighting over an empty paper towel roll holder.  Just as she was cutting the cardboard in two, Michael screamed out, “Don’t cut it!”  Too late.  Michael was not a happy boy at that point.
• Dinnertime used to be a pleasure, as noted, Michael hadn’t napped, and he would just mumble and sit there dozing off.  He always wanted to sit by Pappap, even then Pappap was his favorite, and I remember Pappap asking him if he wanted ketchup on his hamburger.  Michael mumbled a bit, and I guess Pappap thought he wanted ketchup, and just as he squirted it on the burger, Michael started screaming.  Emily then interjected, “Pappap, Michael doesn’t like ketchup on his hamburger!”  It seems Pappap was the butt of a lot of these stories. 

• After we moved away, Laurel and I would visit periodically, over holidays or the summer.  Michael was extremely competitive, and I remember he’d want me to hit him fly balls, and he would practice catching them.  Sadly, I wasn’t always the best at hitting fly balls, and Michael would get so angry at me.  But that never matched the wrath I received when we’d play foosball.  It would typically be Jim and Emily against Michael and me.  I definitely wasn’t the best foosball player, and Michael let me know it when I screwed up.  If you could have seen the intensity when Jim or Emily scored, or Heaven forbid, beat us. 

• As years went by, the visits became less frequent.  When I was able to see Michael in the later years, as a teen or as a young adult, what amazed me was his relationship with my Dad.  I always struggled in my relationship with my Dad, but that was more about me rather than him.  Especially in the later years, it had a lot to do with patience, which I didn’t have enough of, but Michael, he had so much patience with my Dad.  If you could have seen them together, they would be talking to each other, and it wasn’t like there was anyone else in the room.  When Michael had troubles along the way, my Dad always defended Michael, he was always a huge fan.  And Michael always spent time, listening to my Dad, talking to him, being so much kinder and gentler to him than I ever was.  I envied him for their relationship, but I was so happy for the relationship they had.  More than

anything else, that was the biggest reason Michael always had a special place in my heart.

• In the last couple of years, what was amazing was seeing Michael with his children, Daphne and Elliot.  Remember those brown eyes I talked about when he was a baby and toddler?  If you could see those brown eyes light up around his children, it was magical.  They gave him such joy, and that joy showed so vividly when you saw Michael.  He was so patient and loving to Daphne and Elliot, I wish I could have been near the father he was.

Five snippets, five snapshots from a life too brief.  Michael really touched my life, he left me with many memories, but also with a very big hole for the memories that I won’t get to experience since he’s gone.  And the five memories I gave you pale in comparison to the 500 or 5,000 that his immediate family could share with you. 

As each of us ponders our life, who have we touched?  Who have we made a difference for in their lives?  I believe that if you think about it, you could come up with a great number of people who you have had an impact on, and who would really miss you if you were gone. When you make choices in your life, whether it’s suicide, addiction, drug or alcohol abuse, you are impacting more people than you could probably imagine.  Doesn’t that make it a life worth living? 

I would encourage you to take the “It’s a Wonderful Life” view and challenge yourself, what would the lives around me be like, if I would have never been born, or if I went away today.  I can unequivocally guarantee you, you will see that your life is worth more than you ever imagined.  And if you do see this, I will tell you in this case, your brain is not lying to you.