Today I got a call from someone I know who is living abroad. I have not had much contact with him for a few years, and really we have not been close for at least 10. I was working and the call went to my voicemail, so the information was brief. But let me tell you what the content was.
He wanted to borrow money. He carefully worded his message to appeal to my heart as he always does. He is good at that. And I know him to be cunning and eloquent enough to talk the fuzz off a peach so it was a good story. This is a person who received a giant sum of money in a settlement from a car accident with a commercial vehicle a few years back. This is a person whose life has been dominated by drug problems for more than 30 years. He has a long list of friends who will not speak to him. He has had more cell phone numbers than I can count. He has two grown children who have no life skills at all because he spent such a large percentage of his time high and trying to get high that he was unable to actually raise them.
And yet he is a great person to be around. He has something interesting to say about a variety of topics. He is intelligent and funny. He is caring, generous, kind. He has a lot of love in his heart, and I have a wealth of fond memories of him.
So when I got a message that he has no money for food, it was heart that immediately wanted to inquire how I can help. But when my brain chimed in with reason, I wanted to know how I can change my phone number. It was my brother's voice I heard in that message. It was his familiar style of creating a picture of a man down on his luck. Of a guy who has finally got his future in order, if only he can get some help in the short term. He would be able to pay it back this time. But there won't be a this time because it was the drugs that asked me for money, not my brother. It has been a long road for me to get here. Even just a couple of years back there was enough of my brother left that I might be convinced to lend a hand in hopes, albeit slight, that I can believe anything he says. But not this time. I hurts so bad, but my heart will lose this struggle with reason because I know the drugs have been the boss of him for many years now. They make the decisions and the phone calls. And I won't give anything to them.
Okay, when you asked if I was reading your blog, I didn't see *this* post. Jeebus. I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteThanks for writing this. So many of us struggle with this. And sometimes it feels like we are the drug addicts, addicted to what we remember that person to be when they were not using us - addicted to how great it was to be connected to that person when they weren't high. And we are tempted to give them another chance in hope of regaining that connection, just as they are tempted by the drug to feel as good as it made them feel a long time ago. I am proud of you, cousin.
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