I have been holding off on this post, wanting to heal a little bit before I had to write about it but come this morning that wound was just tore right the fuck open again.
A couple weeks ago my uncle died. He was in the navy when he was young and when he came back they didn't at the time recognize PTSD as an illness. By the time they did he was at the point where he refused help. He spent his life drinking, and trying to forget that of his whole group he was the only one that made it out of the war alive. He drank a lot. He drank so much he shut his liver down. For the past few years we've known he was dieing, he's been on that brink for over a year. Last year we thought he wouldn't make it to Christmas. Well he did, he couldn't remember his wife, or where he lived or how to dress himself and he was hallucinating and seeing things that weren't there but he made it. Then over the summer they finally had a doctor take a good look at him and start him on pills and meds and he got better. Then he'd sink. Then he'd get better... and sink again. This went on for months
Then, this morning I woke up to find that my aunt had died. Not the one married to the uncle. This was my great grandmothers sister. She was a riot to be around and always scaring and playing pranks. Last time I visited her we cooked, and talked and she showed me her project.. she loved making wine.
So, that's two. Death in my life has always come in threes so I know there is another one lurking somewhere and quite honestly I am sick of this shit. So, I say to all my friends and readers and fellow bloggers, be careful out there!