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.
I'm so sorry for your loss Dixie and Denise's loss too. You both are in my thoughts.
I think it was Bertha's destiny to end up at the shelter so she could live out her last days being loved and spoiled the way she deserved.
When I adpoted Rosie - the 11 year old Great Dane from the shelter, I had no idea what a rewarding experience that would be. In the short time I had her she taught me a lot. She had been neglected and abandoned but had not lost faith in humanity. She immediately gave me her unconditional love and trust and became my giant shadow. Her medical problems were severe and sadly her tired body gave up after three weeks, but I feel so fortunate that I got to have her for that time and was able to give her the happy ending she deserved.
I can picture Rosie and Bertha having a great time romping around together in heaven! Rest in peace sweet ones.
Posted by: Pam Herrenkohl | October 28, 2010 at 01:08 PM
Thank you Dixie for a really, really beautiful post.
Posted by: Yolanda Cookson | October 28, 2010 at 12:31 PM
Lyn,
Sometimes I feel like the odd person out with the God thing, but oh well. Their loss. Thanks for your comments!
Posted by: Dixie Redfearn | October 28, 2010 at 08:46 AM
Not stupid, I believe that too.
Your story touched me. Tears sprang to my eyes. I think the worst part about death is all the life that came before it that very well may be forgotten. Your story tells of people I have never met and let me feel I knew them a little bit, even Bertha.
Posted by: Lyn Dominguez | October 28, 2010 at 07:14 AM