eulogy (person)

My stepfather died of alcohol, I want that to be understood. It is important to me to try to break down the societal taboo we have about talking openly on the subject of alcoholism. Hopefully then, one day, it will be easier for others to find help. Over the last six months during the worst of his illness I have gone from worrying, to loving, to hating, and back again. Alcoholism is not a pretty disease; it not only destroys the body, but also manipulates the mind and those people around you. I am now trying to come to terms with what he was going through, with why he would not stop drinking even though it was ending his life. I am trying to return to loving him as he was before this all began.

I am also trying to overcome my anger at the doctors, the hospital, and society who would not or could not help him. The doctors that would not give my stepfather a sedative even though he was bleeding internally and his organs had shut down. The hospital that released him even though he was in great pain and suffering. His friends, who had been through alcoholism themselves, but did not help him. And finally the lack of available programs to help him recover, the closed doors, the social workers that said, “maybe next month”. He didn’t have that month. For me to heal I need to move away from this anger.

I am also full of guilt. At the end of the summer when I was visiting my mother he wanted to see me before I left. I didn’t feel that I had time. I said, “I’ll be here at Christmas”. I didn’t send a father’s day card this year, I forgot. I should have sent flowers to the hospital, but I didn’t now how to go about doing that. I had too many excuses. As he was dying my stepfather told my mum, “I just wanted to have a family”. I could have tried harder to give him one. Now is not the time for me to feel guilt, I have to remember what we have done for each other and with each other over the years.

I remember all the music; my stepfather was a musician, all the festivals, the dancing. I remember waking up a 5:30 for school and he would still be awake after a gig the night before. We would talk, watch Teletubbies together. I think he still owes me money from our bets on NHL playoffs, he always lost. I remember the Christmas he gave me a water gun – only to steal it back the next summer when we went camping. I remember him meditating in the evenings and how he taught me about his views on spirituality. I remember how much he loved children, how important he thought they were. And how he always saw the best in every situation, in every person. I will always remember what he did for other people, how caring he was, how much he sacrificed to help others succeed.

My stepfather has taught me the complexities of human beings, that what we see isn’t usually what lies underneath. I have learnt the importance of compassion and love for others; I try to be less condemnatory, like he always was. Never quick to criticize or cast judgements my stepfather always let people grow, learn, and make mistakes. Despite the disease that crippled him and in the end killed him, my stepfather was a good man, and an honest man; whatever made him suffer is gone now, whatever was making him drink has no more influence over his life. I wish that I had been more supportive while he was sick, but it is a difficult disease to understand. I wish that I had seen him one last time. I wish I had been able to say all this to him before he died.