The Longest Night

On Thursday we offered a "longest night" service for those who are grieving during this season.  I am including my own story of grief in the hope that some would see that they are not alone.  It was a blustery wet night and so attendance was low but I am sure that those who did come were glad they did.

This is the longest night of the year. It can also be a very sad time for many reasons. Maybe there will be an empty seat at the Christmas dinner table or a relationship is broken or finances are such that it is difficult to keep your head above water. Whatever the reason, some people do not find joy during this joyous season. Grief is a difficult emotion any time of the year but it seems to be most pronounced during the holidays.

I have had my own times of sadness. Here is my story. When I was eighteen my mother died. She had been troubled for a very long time. Mom and dad were recently divorced and mom was receiving treatment for alcoholism at a treatment center in Mount Pleasant, Iowa. She called me one day and asked me if I was coming to a picnic the treatment center had planned. I told her I couldn't and she said it was alright because she was being released in a few days. I told her I thought it was wonderful and that I was sure I would see her soon.

I week later we were putting up hay at the farm. We had just finished with a load and I was walking up to the house for a drink when I saw the sheriff's car coming up the lane. The deputy got out and as he was approaching me he said, “Fred, I have some bad news for you. Your mom was in a fatal car accident. Can I speak to your dad?” I was in shock and I thought my dad was going to have a heart attack right there.

The reality of mom's death really hit me at the graveside service several days later. She had been drinking again while driving and I was angry at her for not controlling her alcoholism. Why didn't she just stop. At the same time I was so angry I also felt guilty. I thought maybe I hadn't been a good enough son and if I had given her more support she might still be alive. I was also just plain sad that someone I had loved was gone and I would never see her again.

Eleven years later my older brother died. He too was an alcoholic and he left behind a twelve year old daughter. I was angry at him too and I also felt guilty that maybe there was something I should have done to help him out of the downward spiral he was in. Bill was thirty five.

Over the years the anger went away because I developed a better understanding of alcoholism and addiction in general. I remember having a dream some years after my mother passed. She was standing off in a distance and we began walking toward each other. No words were spoken. They weren't necessary. We just hugged and then I woke up. That night, on some spiritual level, my mother and I were at peace. I had a similar dream with my brother Bill. 

Fourteen years ago I received a call from my younger brother Bob. He told me had been told by his employer that they were requiring him to go into treatment for alcoholism. He said he wasn't really an alcoholic but it was a matter of either losing his job or going through the program. I encouraged him to take it seriously and he said he planned to. 

Several weeks later he called me again and told me he had finished the program and he realized he had an alcohol problem but he was now in a good place. A week later he called me again. He was drunk and he said he had just lost his job of thirty years because he had come to work with alcohol on his breath. He said he had only had two beers but I knew better.

By this time in my life I knew that it wasn't that easy for an alcoholic to just stop drinking. It was a serious addiction. After speaking to my wife, I called my brother and told him I would like to invite him to stay with us in Wyoming. He could stay in our guest bedroom. I would find him a job and I would go to the local AA meetings with him. He agreed.

Several weeks later I was all ready. I had found him a job and he was scheduled to arrive on the coming Sunday. The Saturday before he was to arrive, Bob called me from Grand Island, Nebraska. He told me he would arrive the next morning. He had been drinking and I reminded him he would not be drinking while he stayed with us. He agreed.

Bob never made it. He died the next morning in his motel room. He left behind an eighteen year old daughter. My intervention was too little too late.

I think about my mother and my two brothers every day. I think of them fondly and I wish they were still here. My grief for them has lightened over the years but it is still there. My dad also passed away several years ago. He was ninety three and I miss him as well.

My experience with grief is probably different from yours. Grief can take many forms. Mine was a mix of anger and sadness and guilt. I do not believe there is any one thing that I can say to remove grief from your heart. I do believe that time and reflection and asking guidance from God will help to heal.