My sister is burying her father-in-law tomorrow. B. leaves behind a wife, two children and four grandchildren, who all want to know why they weren’t enough for him to beat the alcohol.
B. has been off and on the wagon for years, and been commited to detox twice in the six years they were married. The last time was about Christmas time last year. The Dr.s told him he had pretty well run out of chances then. He had to make it stick that time. His body plain couldnt take any more, his heart was enlarged and there was extensive syrosis. It didn’t work though. He had been drinking again for a few months and been getting kind of irrational about some stuff. So, Friday he collapsed in his bathroom at home. He was probably dead before he hit his head on the way down. His wife found him a few hours later. He died with a one day chip in his pocket.
Mostly I am writing because I am sad. I am sad for my sister, who is doing all the planning, because my family has had a lot of death for one reason or another and we kind of know how to do the formalities. Sad for his grandchildren who range between 3 and 6, who will never know him. Sad for daughter who also married an alcoholic and has to be going through eight kinds of hell. Sad for his son who has to greive his father and still figure out how to sort out the finances so his mother can afford to live. He didn’t leave a will, he didn’t leave life insurance and he never discussed what he wanted when he died with any of the people who were going to have to cope with it.
I guess I am off to figure out how to send my sister a bubble bath through the mail, and do the proper FTD thing for the funeral.