I've been thinking about death a lot lately...understandable, since I just returned from a funeral in Orange County. We were mourning my brother-in-law from my first marriage, Bryan Courtney, who was taken from us at age 60. The cause: melanoma. He leaves a wife, two college age kids, and three pets. He also leaves -- for us to enjoy -- an extraordinary garden that he tended daily with love.
Bryan was my brother in law, but so much more. I met him in high school, where he was my lab partner. He was smart and funny and outgoing...I thought. It turns out he was actually drunk in class, which enabled him to be outgoing, since he was extremely shy. The day he passed out after smashing all the beakers was his last day at Whittier High, because he was expelled. But I had met his older brother John by that time, and in short order we were married, giving me a inside view to Bryan's life.
Back in the day, alcoholism was not taken as seriously as it is today. The consequences were not as severe. Soon, in his teenage life, Bryan had an astounding 5 drunk driving arrests. Every time he was sent to a court-ordered shrink, and every time he was back drinking. Even though we both lived in Seal Beach, I banned Bryan from our home because our two small daughters had already seen enough and his behavior scared me. "Come back when you've been sober a year," I said, crying, as I slammed the door.
Six months later I got a call from his 10th psychologist, Pat Allen. "Bryan is sober now," she said, and invited me to meet her and see Bryan for myself. He had indeed, quit drinking, and never had another drink in his life. Bryan went on to be successful both personally and financially, marrying and having two kids. His brother and I divorced after 13 years, but I always had a soft spot for Bryan and always lauded his success.
That began my lifetime association with Pat Allen, who counseled me through divorce, cancer and my journalism career. I can honestly say that Pat Allen has been the biggest influence on my life. A recovering alcoholic herself, Pat has an uncanny ability to get right to the heart of the matter, even if it wasn't what you thought it was.
At the funeral there was talk of Bryan's garden, and his family, and his love of Halloween, but only a quick mention of his darkest days when he was drinking. After all, very few people at the funeral knew Bryan then. But I knew his defeat of alcoholism was his most monumental achievement. It paved the way for all the success he had later in life.
At 60, he was way too young to die. The fact that Bryan was instrumental in my meeting the father of my children and introducing me to the woman who would became my forever life coach, he changed my life for the better and I will never forget him.
About this same time, my friend and fellow blogger Denise lost her sister to breast cancer, which had reoccurred after a decade and spread its evil cells. Linda Silver fought this with everything she had for nearly four years. She leaves her mom, two sisters, a daughter and four terrific grandkids.
The third death is an animal -- lovely Bertha, an elderly St. Bernard who ended up at the shelter old, tired, with cancer and other medical problems. She lived the rest of her life in the shelter office, on a soft bed, being fed rotisserie chicken and Ritz crackers. Her ashes now sit in a beautiful box above Ruth's desk, along with her photo.
And so, three lives -- and now three deaths. People may think I'm stupid, but I like to think they're all somewhere together, enjoying God's grace. May they rest in peace.
Recent Comments