The day my daughter Jolie was born one of the happiest people at the hospital was her Uncle Randy. He took that baby girl in his arms and promised to love her forever and ever. His partner Don promised to teach her to fold napkins a dozen ways for the perfect dinner party.
Uncle Randy kept his promise. He was devoted to Jolie and spoiled her in ways that her father and I couldn’t. He gave her sweet and thoughtful gifts, the kind of gifts that encouraged her to be the best she could be, like swimming lessons, guitar lessons, books, and music. Jolie adored her Uncle; it was fun to watch the two of them together. Randy would have made a great father.
Randy and Don were together a little over 15 years. I can’t say exactly what ended their relationship, but their Newport Beach gay lifestyle involved a lot of alcohol so it was probably the same story we all hear in the “rooms”. Don died shortly after the break up; he struck his head on a toilet seat and bled to death presumably while in a black out.
Randy always lived alone after that. He had a few friends, but no one that he ever got close to. Jolie was his weekend companion, confidant and shining star. She would spend the night; they would get movies and a pizza. Sometimes they went to LA to the theatre. They just hung out, the way you do with people you love. That was the weekends. During the week Randy was lonely, remorseful, bitter and isolated, and so he drank.
Jolie knew he had a problem. I knew he had a problem. I did nothing. He was so intensely private. I had ten years of sobriety at the time but I didn’t know how to reach across that gulf.
In July of 2003 Randy reached a new low. He led Jolie to believe he may traveling for awhile. He put his truck in his garage, and his gun in his mouth.
Two months passed by before Jolie and her father found Randy’s body. Two months of Jolie calling, and emailing, and driving by his house. It ended when she finally went into his backyard and saw through the window that the house was swarming with flies, and she knew she had to call me, and the police. I say “it ended” but of course it will never end for Jolie. The trauma of that day…. sights, smell, shock and loss changed her forever. Randy’ s alcoholism and despair claimed two victims that day.
The picture above is Jolie and Uncle Randy at her high school graduation in 2001. He is just as proud as he was on the day she was born. She has decorated her shoes to look like ruby red slippers. She believes at this point in her life that she can click her heels three times and go anywhere.
After Randy’s suicide Jolie suffered in a way that was almost unbearable for me to watch. I struggled to find a balance between helping her, and letting go enough to let her grieve in her own way. She dealt with her pain exactly the way I did when I was young. She drank, she got stoned, she dropped out of college, she got into self loathing and she got angry. I watched her walk the dark hallways of her own heart and mind and slowly self destruct. Finally in April last year she said “enough”.
Jolie took a 30 day sobriety chip at one of my meetings, and then left So California in May 2006. So I’m coming up on the one year anniversary of her decision to leave home. She moved north to Washington state and lives with her dad now. I think her prayers are for peace and understanding, for herself and others. She wants to fall in love. She wants to trust. She wants to believe in herself and the possibilities of the ruby red slippers. She still doesn’t drink, and she’s ready to go back to school. I miss her every day, but understand her choice and I think it’s the right one for her. I think California smells like death to her, and the air in Washington is so sweet.
Uncle Randy kept his promise. He was devoted to Jolie and spoiled her in ways that her father and I couldn’t. He gave her sweet and thoughtful gifts, the kind of gifts that encouraged her to be the best she could be, like swimming lessons, guitar lessons, books, and music. Jolie adored her Uncle; it was fun to watch the two of them together. Randy would have made a great father.
Randy and Don were together a little over 15 years. I can’t say exactly what ended their relationship, but their Newport Beach gay lifestyle involved a lot of alcohol so it was probably the same story we all hear in the “rooms”. Don died shortly after the break up; he struck his head on a toilet seat and bled to death presumably while in a black out.
Randy always lived alone after that. He had a few friends, but no one that he ever got close to. Jolie was his weekend companion, confidant and shining star. She would spend the night; they would get movies and a pizza. Sometimes they went to LA to the theatre. They just hung out, the way you do with people you love. That was the weekends. During the week Randy was lonely, remorseful, bitter and isolated, and so he drank.
Jolie knew he had a problem. I knew he had a problem. I did nothing. He was so intensely private. I had ten years of sobriety at the time but I didn’t know how to reach across that gulf.
In July of 2003 Randy reached a new low. He led Jolie to believe he may traveling for awhile. He put his truck in his garage, and his gun in his mouth.
Two months passed by before Jolie and her father found Randy’s body. Two months of Jolie calling, and emailing, and driving by his house. It ended when she finally went into his backyard and saw through the window that the house was swarming with flies, and she knew she had to call me, and the police. I say “it ended” but of course it will never end for Jolie. The trauma of that day…. sights, smell, shock and loss changed her forever. Randy’ s alcoholism and despair claimed two victims that day.
The picture above is Jolie and Uncle Randy at her high school graduation in 2001. He is just as proud as he was on the day she was born. She has decorated her shoes to look like ruby red slippers. She believes at this point in her life that she can click her heels three times and go anywhere.
After Randy’s suicide Jolie suffered in a way that was almost unbearable for me to watch. I struggled to find a balance between helping her, and letting go enough to let her grieve in her own way. She dealt with her pain exactly the way I did when I was young. She drank, she got stoned, she dropped out of college, she got into self loathing and she got angry. I watched her walk the dark hallways of her own heart and mind and slowly self destruct. Finally in April last year she said “enough”.
Jolie took a 30 day sobriety chip at one of my meetings, and then left So California in May 2006. So I’m coming up on the one year anniversary of her decision to leave home. She moved north to Washington state and lives with her dad now. I think her prayers are for peace and understanding, for herself and others. She wants to fall in love. She wants to trust. She wants to believe in herself and the possibilities of the ruby red slippers. She still doesn’t drink, and she’s ready to go back to school. I miss her every day, but understand her choice and I think it’s the right one for her. I think California smells like death to her, and the air in Washington is so sweet.
14 comments:
My goodness I went thru so many emotions reading this post. And you, to get thru this and have an understanding of all the insanity, what happens to people like us that have the allergy, thank you.
Oh Meg, I am crying for you, for Jolie, for me and for all others who have suffered from the disease of alcoholism...
I think that seeing our children suffer is more difficult than suffering our selves. I too pray for happiness and peace for my daughter as she is not with me, I miss her all the time!
HUGS
Ahh Sober Chick is correct. An allergy coupled with obsession.
When we can quietly sit with each other and comfort each other as we share our hearts. Our messages must have depth and weight.
When we see that we are not all alone and we are not the only ones who suffer. When we can transcend the temporary pain and move into the sunlight of the spirit and experience that serenity that is always there even in deep and dark times. That is the faith that pulls us through.
Perhaps that is what they mean when they say we do not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it.
Perhaps that is the true meaning of our 3rd step prayer when our obsession with self is removed only so that victory over our difficulties is removed so that we can bear witness to others of the amazing power which is greater than ourselfs.
So that some day when someone else is experiencing something similar to what we have gone through we can share a piece (or the peace) of our heart with them. There is no quick fix to life's sorrows and pains but we do have a way out.
Pain is mandatory... suffering is optional.
The trick is not to let the insane thought win out.
It must be so hard for you for your daughter be so far away, both physically and emotionally in so many ways.
No matter how he died, the loss of a special relationship like the one your daughter had with her Uncle Randy must have been devastating to her. I lost my grandfather to lung cancer when I was 19, and I don't think I ever quite recovered. He was my cheerleader in a way no one else in my family was, but a part of me felt betrayed (yes, unfairly and selfishly) by his inability to quit smoking and live for me because I needed him.
You love your daughter. I think that will go a long way. I am envious of her in that way.
thank you sweet meg....we have pain, then we have children, and watching their pain is ten times worse than our own....that's what I think. I would much rather experience horrific pain than watch my children go thru even a tad. I know you wish you could take your baby's pain away...alas she has her own road to travel. It's hard to be a mama sometimes ain't it sister?
Like sober chick, I went thru so many emotiions, like lushgurl, I cried for you, & Jolie, & Randy. He sounds like such a lovely person. I lost my brother at 43, to this disease. He suffered so much, emotionally, mentally, physically. Then to watch my mom go thru what she went thru, & there's really nothing you can do, you have to let them go thru their pain. I'm so sorry for your loss. Then there is happiness at the end, Jolie got sober. I just can't tell you how much I felt for all of you. Thanks for sharing a wonderful story.
Love, Sharon
!!
It makes me so sad to see how people like Randy must have been suffering and to be not able to help him. I hate what this disease does to people. I wish i could help everybody but I can't. I hate not being able to help everyone. Crazy I know, but that''s how I feel.
I have a good feeling about your daughter even though that loss still weighs heavy on her I'm sure.
Randy looked LOVELY. Its very sad. I'll just have to settle for helping other alcoholics pick up the peices on my doorstep. This is such a terrible disease.
What a beautiful post and tribute to Randy and to Jolie. It is sad that some people can't finishe the last chapters of their book of life. This game of life is a hard one to figure out, but maybe now that Jolie has found recovery and a way back to spirit that will lead her to find the way to come to terms with losing Randy.
So many people take their lives, society places huge stigmas on alcoholics and also on gay people. Some of us get that double whammy and luckily for some of us we find the path that leads us up and out of that darkness.
You are blessed to have the grateful attitude about her leaving So California. Prayers for you and her.
Your post pointed out to me how some people can only be held close to us for a short while. We would like to keep them near us forever but they aren't meant to stay. I'm hoping that Randy found peace and that Jolie realizes that there was nothing that she could have done to have changed the outcome.
Shed my tear for the day, thanks Meg. What a story, and you told it so well. Thank you so much for sharing. I'm sure Jolie will make it.
Thanks for sharing your life with us.
Thanks for that. This disease really pisses me off. I hate that it kills so many of us, those we love so much. If you are ever up to Washington for a visit give ne a hollar....would love to meet ya!
Absolutely beautiful, Meg. I will leave with you with some wise, wise words: "reading this is like leading us in a moment of prayer for those who still suffer. thank you for be willing to take us where so many fear to venture..that is where the truth be told."
I love you,
Scout
I stopped by earlier and had read this piece. I had to leave it for awhile, my mind even refused to rememer where I saw it, since I roam around different sites of people in recovery. And try to find new ones as well. All of that is going a long way around the barn and trying not to admit that this post hit me as squarely as if you had put on boxing gloves, the bell rang, we both walked into the middle of the ring and you hit me with one shot right on the nose.
I have the same personal experience that you and your daughter have had, and you hit it pretty closely when you said he killed two people that day. Sucide wouldn't be all that bad I think, if you only killed one person. But you kill so many, or at least that's what it was like for me. If your daughter ever got to the place she could talk about it, maybe that's all you could tell her. That he decided to die, and that was his decision. But there is no way that he wanted you to die with him. He just didn't know that it would kill such an important part of you. So tell her, when she is ready to hear it, to honor him, with her thoughts, her longing to be with him, and her sorrow. But even more than that, to honor his love for her with her life. Know that every day that she is alive and grows as a person confirms the faith he had in her. If she is ever at a place to hear it, tell her that.
Peace.
david
via vicariusrising
Post a Comment