On February 1, 2020, I was a nanosecond from walking out my garage door with my son to take him up to OSU (Columbus, OH) for an important HS track meet when my landline rang.
I paused to take the unusual call on a Saturday morning at about 7am.
It was my 2nd oldest brother and as soon as he said hi to me I knew the call was to tell me that my sister was dead. It was remarkably inherent to me. A call I had years anticipated given her drug and alcohol abuse. Before he said much of anything, I asked, "is this about Lisa?" "Yes."
He let me know she passed either the 30th or 31st of January overnight in Costa Rica at our father's house. Heart attack. (Likely drug/alcohol induced. She was in her 50s.)
I then got in the car to take my son to his meet without letting on so that I would not ruin his momentum for his day. My mind for that first hour and a half drive running through so many emotions, regrets, my hours of that meet when my son wasn't running was spent posting on Twitter about her and her loss, who she was before she was overcome with addiction, who she became, the loss she became. I didn't tell my son until we got home, he had only met her once because of her addiction. He held me as I cried grieving her life. I then had to go to my mom's to tell her. I held her as she cried. RIP, Lisa.🕊🕯
So, anyway, this post is to remind people who might be suffering from addiction that if you can still read this, it is not too late to seek help. (That's why I have chosen not to content warn this.)
Please. Thank you. 💜