Before you read this post I ask you watch this short slideshow on my brother. Brian Ewell Wilkes, Born March 5, 1976. Died January 21, 2014
I’ll never forget something that my older brother said to me. It was the late spring before he died. I was in Recovery from Opiates and still struggling with my denial of alcohol and the control I had allowed it to once again take over my life.
“You have the power to affect change sis. People care about you. More than they do me. Use it for good, make a difference”.
I had just started blogging on “What you’re Scared to Say”. It had proven to be successful and premonitions of writing a book were just entering into my mind. At the time I was naïve and arrogant enough to think that his comment had meant something about my success. MY experience with bringing people to a certain light. At the time, while yes, I provided some healing to others through my writing, it was still very selfish. I wanted to be loved. Adored.
This rang through my head the day of his funeral services as I looked over the podium and saw a packed chapel. Packed to the point of which the funeral home said had only ever been matched one other time. Sitting next to one another was a crowd that covered all walks of life. From the suited up LDS Bishop to the covered in tattoos, wearing a wife beater atheist. We all had the same look on our faces, the same red eyes, the same tears. Each of us had been touched by Brian. We each had known his love, his understanding, his undying humor, his steady compassion. It didn’t matter what we believed, or the backgrounds we came from. His love and spirit proved to be real to each of us. I hope in some way, some how, he saw that chapel.
The months since his death how I have thought about this. I’ve overanalyzed. I’ve excused it as some conversation we had in passing that he didn’t really mean. Or as a comment that a big brother made to his little sister to boost her self esteem. I remember one time a few months after his death punching the wall in the shower and crying over the statement. Grief is weird. It’s completely unpredictable when you go through feeling it. Some days are good, you find yourself looking at old photos, telling fun stories, laughing. And the next day you’re storming out of room angry because someone said something to remind you and they were supposed to read your mind.
Until my brother died I had no real understanding for what it meant to lose someone you had spent a lifetime loving and adoring. In fact, I was stupid to think that it was just…..”a process” like any other. I was stupid to think that death would compare to any other thing I had experienced yet in life. And then on top of losing him, losing him to Alcoholism.
Official Cause of Death: Severe Alcoholism/ Liver Failure
There is no debating it. It killed him. Addiction to one or many things killed him.
As a recovering addict myself I carry some serious guilt. I think of all the times we drank together. I think of all the stupid things I did or said to him that may have led to his self esteem being down or the choices I made that disappointed him and may have led to adding to his depression. I think this is what we call the “shoulda woulda coulda’s”. From what I have learned in going through it and talking with others who have lost loved ones, this is pretty normal. We kick ourselves over and over and over and over. If we had just done something differently.
What I have learned that is different from losing a loved one who is apparently “healthy”, to a fatal accident or old age or an apparent disease like cancer as opposed to alcoholism is the judgment from a select group of people. Comments like “he had it coming with the way he lived” or implying that he had committed suicide. I think the most obnoxious comment that was made was suggesting that it’s a game of survival of the fittest and he obviously lost. You see, he’s my brother. He is my loved one. I don’t see him as a ‘screw up’.
Or there is the other side of the spectrum.
Those that remember him through the memories they made with him through alcohol. Trying to recreate that experience once again by leaving alcohol on his grave. The very thing that slowly but surely killed him over a period of time.
Our middle brother said it perfectly one time. If you knew him at all, you’d know that he didn’t want to be this way. Brian was in pain. He was struggling enormously. He sure may have been able to put on a good show, but, one of the most loveable human beings, him, never knew how loved that he was.
Another thing that comes to mind is when we were little, how Brian would say that he didn’t want to die and old man. He wanted to die young, go out having a good time. Time would only show what the toll addiction takes on ones spirit and physical life is not a good time. It’s painful. I think of how his perspective changed when he voiced to me on one of the weekends he spent at my home the spring before he died that he was scared, he didn’t want to die. He wanted to see his son graduate. I was stupid to not realize at the time his fear were valid. Not only were they valid, but they came true.
So again, we go full circle with this article. Why am I even writing it?……….
This is for you Brian, and the challenge you put on me a year and a half ago. The power to affect change.
In the beginning when others made their accusations about my brother or judgments, I’d puff up like a rooster. Not only puff up but claws were out. I’d rip a new one. I imagine all those who have lost someone to addiction feel this way. See….he’s just the zit faced teenager attempting to play Metallica on his electric guitar to me. He’s the guy flexing arms next to our other brother on Saturday mornings after peeling logs together while I eat cereal. He’s the guy I anxiously waited for a letter in the mail from when he served time in prison for his addiction. Envelope always intricately decorated with his artwork. He’s the guy who sent me music scripts when I first started taking piano lessons. The guy who called me sis, Catalina Salad dressing. The guy who stunk me out with his gas, yet we always ended up laughing.
So WHO exactly do I write this for?
Trying to convince those of who he was that judge him? To not judge? To bring a “new light” to your eyes?
No………..
I can’t do that.
That’s a transformation that takes place entirely within.
I write this for those that have lost a loved one to addiction. Of any sort. I write to spread love. Because that is how I honor him.
It’s really simple. You ready?
YOUR PAIN IS VALID
FEEL IT. WORK THROUGH IT. HONOR THEM.
And for those that struggle with addiction themselves on top of losing someone to it……<massive spiritual hug>.
Think of your loved one. HONOR them. Imagine their hand on yours next time you pick up, with their understanding and their humility for what they know now.
Brian,
I love you. I miss you. You’re my massive energy guiding me.
Loves & LIGHT to all of you. Truly.
Humbled & Blessed with knowledge of knowing my brother,
Kat
-Now watch the video again and look at how cute my brother is. 🙂
https://www.youtube.com/edit?video_id=6KJxi4QKqcg&video_referrer=watch
What You're Scared to Say 