I thought about my father often over the Memorial Weekend, because he fought in World War II. His photo, at left, sits on the table at the entrance of my home. My father never talked about the war, and I'm not even sure what his position was while serving in the army. I will talk to my brother about it, because I'm curious. Over the years, I read the letters that he would send to my mom, from different places where he was stationed. On my court we had somewhat of a block party on Saturday, and again on Monday, to get rid of the leftover food. We live in a community that is somewhat old fashioned, kids play with each other daily and parents look out for each other.
My younger sister telephoned me on Saturday, and stated that she felt as if she was regressing back to her old lifestyle, that being an alcoholic, and she was afraid. I had not seen her since Christmas, and she wanted to come and spend a few days with us. Everyone who knows me, knows the story of L, and the many years that I have "enabled", or have tried to just keep her alive. If you are lucky enough to have had to deal with some who is an alcoholic I'm sure, you can imagine what I have gone through over the past 25 years with my sister. My sister went to Rehab, about 2 years ago, and has been in her own apartment for the past 7 months. L is unable to really take care of herself, when she lives alone, it NEVER works out! Our birthmother did drugs and alcohol when she carried all of us, but L seems to be the one this has affected. Currently L lives about 65 miles from my home, which is a good thing. When I went to pick her up on Sunday, I called her on my cellphone when I was about 1/2 mile from her place, just to let her know how close I was, she answered her phone and said she was waiting out front. The closer I got, from a distance I could see a frail women coming towards my car. Inside me, I gasped as she opened the car door, and put all of her belongings inside. L is already a small framed women, but clearly she had lost about 25 pounds since I saw her at Christmas. All of my emotions were starting to line my face. We both tried to make small talk in the car, but over the years it is a difficult thing to do. I expressed my concern and once again as I have told her a thousand times that it would be good if she went to talk with a therapist, and even get on an anti-depressant, which she sort of scoffs at. I continue driving and I'm in deep thought trying to keep my emotions in check, and starting to realize the real reason why she is here. When L called me earlier she had mentioned that her TV, was no longer working, and I mentioned that maybe in a week or two, I would bring one that she had left at our house. L relies on the TV, to go to sleep, and just for company. However being the alcoholic that she is, the TV and her telephone are always the first things to go, meaning either she sells them for alcohol or whatever else she uses. L seemed to enjoy Mark, and he made her smile, I'm sure it makes her think of the baby she gave up for adoption, to a lovely lesbian couple. We all found out about the baby af few years later. The week-end went by, and everyone was happy to see her. On the return trip home, I carried the TV up the stairs for her and then hugged her good-bye and told her that I loved her. As I turned away, and then looked back at her, I saw the tears fill her eyes, and I felt if she knew that I felt her pain.
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