Finding Peace in the Grip of Death

Last month my brother Phil died, he was two years older then me.  I wasn’t sure if I should write about his untimely death but decided that I needed to in order to work through the process of grief and bereavement. I needed to step over this before I could naturally carry on with my own life. 

It is one of those life changing or perspective changing experiences, when we lose someone who really shouldn’t have died. It wasn’t unexpected but still very hard. You see, he had a drink dependency that began to spiral out of control about six years ago and when he lapsed after his first detoxification I knew things weren’t looking good. These past six years have been incredibly difficult and have evoked a range of emotions ranging from anger, helplessness, frustration, compassion, pain, bewilderment and disbelief at seeing my beloved brother slowly killing himself. From where I was standing he was determined to shorten his like and there was absolutely nothing I could about it.

From my professional experience I have worked with problem drinkers and I could not believe that this was happening within my family, but then again I thought why not my family? These tragedies happen in someones family. The fact that he was an intelligent man who was dearly loved seemed to make not an ounce of difference.  The last few years of his life was like living in the underworld; sleeping during the day and drinking at night. Is alcoholism an illness? Who knows?  It’s like watching someone drowning and being unable to help. Of reaching out to help and then getting stung because of the lack of boundaries.  The problems he caused me and the destruction he seemed to want to drag me into meant that I had to distance myself from him. The fact that he lived at home with my elderly mum meant that the negative effects rippled immediately around us.

In January this year my mum  became too ill herself to continue with the stress and stain he had placed on her and the rest of the family so when he went into hospital again for a second detoxification she told him that he needed to find his own place. That week I was glued to the telephone in my efforts to make sure he was picked up by the welfare system. After spending sometime living with a friend he was allocated his own flat having been referred to a Social worker who assisted this process.

 He continued to drink alcohol immediately following his discharge knowing full well that his vital organs were damaged.His decline lasted a few more months before his essential organs started to pack up and he was admitted into hospital.   Once in the hospital he stopped cooperating with his treatment which meant that his condition deteriorated faster and he was moved to the high dependency unit.

The shock and realisation that his end was upon him filled me with absolute dread. Deep down I had held onto the hope that everything was going to be alright, that he would go into rehab’ and get better; and that his talents and his personality would return, but alas this was not be to. My older brother advised me not to go to the hospital because he believed I would have nightmares. Up until now I had not known what I would might say to him and could not envisage a visit  which would comfort either of us but things were different now, I needed to go and be there for him but the only way I could do this in any meaningful way was to forgive him first.  Forgive him for the trouble, pain, hurt and destruction he had reaped. That night I sat down with a beer and wrote him a letter and then I put the most important bits on a card. When I went to see him, yes it was shocking, and yes it was upsetting, but the thing I remember was that without the alcohol inside him he had returned to the brother that I had lost so many years ago. He had often been passively aggressive towards me when he was drinking but this time he was just himself. He was unable to talk much but was conscious of who was there and his spirit was present.  The following day he got worse and we all knew it would not be long. Despite the pain I felt that I was in the right and proper place and stroked his head and held his hand.

The following day I went but he had got worse, Phil was hooked up to a lot of machines and completely out of it, his eyes were at the top of his head most of the time. However during the visit he suddenly opened his eyes wide and they appeared to return to the vivid blue they used to be. I’d like to think that he suddenly became aware that he was surrounded by people who loved him and that he had glimpsed the after life. I told him that I was there for Mum as she was too ill to attend.

That night he slipped away. 

The following seven days between his passing and his funeral were… I struggle to find one or even two words to describe what I felt there were so many emotions all of which were consumed by a deep sadness and loss. I had lost my beloved brother  I did get through it… I felt that I was held in the arms of humanity that week as I arranged the funeral. I felt close to Phil and talked and berated him that week. I told him what he would be wearing. We’d decided his biker jacket would be good and remind him of happier times. I also told him off for wasting his life!   

During that week I tried to focus on the positives of a desperately sad situation.  

• He’d had a good death surrounded by friends and family and had not died alone in his flat -something I had worried about a lot.
• My friend Jeanette appeared from the woodwork, having lost touch with her for ten years. She came to the hospital with me on the last day and said all the right things and was just brilliant. She was like an angel.
• My friend Harry elected to be Phil’s social worker coincidence? I don’t think so…
• My partner who is a trained nurse and was a rock.
• My colleagues at work are just the best and have been so supportive during this difficult year.
• Three years ago I joined the international coaching community and embarked on my coach training. One of our requirements was to come up with our own POWER TOOL. Mine was about the Power of Forgiveness. In the power tool I described how the use of forgiveness is very much for the person doing the forgiving rather then the person receiving the forgiveness. In many cases they won’t be aware that they are being forgiven, because to tell the person is not necessary for the magic to the work.
• Having these tools was perfect.
• My gift from God my horse and best therapist ever, Cherry Blossom an Irish Drought x Thoroughbred mare.
• My other animals of course Harry my collie dog and Milo my big orange cat.
• The Baptist Minister turned out to be a colleague who had retired my about eight years ago and so someone I had previously known.
• Phil’s friends who had lost contact towards the end were a great help and comfort. Bill suggested a song at the end which was just perfect. He and I kept this a secret and so when “Always look on the bright side of life “was played from the Life of Brian it lifted everyone’s spirit and brought a smile to everyone’s faces.
• I had gathered the troops and arranged a Wake at a local hotel.
• I got old photos from times before the alcohol set in and arranged them on a pin board with the support of Jeanette. This went well and helped fade the horrible images I had in my head from the hospital.
• I saw many friends and acquaintances I haven’t seen for twenty years.
• On the day of the funeral the phone rang 6 of 7 times and each time I picked it up there was no line?? I looked up and said “look Phil everything’s in place and you’re going to have a really good send off!
• I was glad that he had contacted me it was as though he had appreciated everything I had done to give him a good send off.
• So I bid farewell to my brother Phil and believe that he is now at peace and his spirit will live on. Although he was an absolute pain he had a good soul and many endearing characteristics which will be missed.
• God bless you Phil.

 If anyone asked me what I had learnt from all this it would be that.  

•   No matter how bad things get we can get through them with help and support from each other.       
• The power of thoughts and warmth from people with get us through.       
•  Look for the positives, they are always there.
• Love is enduring and everlasting and undoubtedly the most important thing we possess. 

I searched the net to find an appropriate reading and found this one written by St Francis of Assisi

“Oh Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console. To be understood as to understand. To be loved as to love. For it is in giving that we receive. It is in pardoning that we are pardoned. And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life”