Our Last Weekend Together, Two Years Ago

This picture is painful to look at. It was the last weekend I spent with Sam. It is also a stark reminder of how fast life can change. Sam was withdrawing from drugs and he was withdrawn from us. He was also drinking Vodka, tired, uninvolved, and distant for most of the weekend. Despite all this, he was alive and I still had hope.

Looking back on the anniversary of our last weekend together is tough. I am confronted with the realities of how bad it was and also the guilt and shame of watching him slowly die over many years. How could he just sit there in a hotel room for hours and hours and dose off and how could I not have been able to help? We knew he wasn't doing well but none of us knew that just two weeks later, Sam's body would be discovered in a field. We were all holding out hope that he would last until his upcoming court ordered rehab.

Looking at the past requires a steadfast commitment to the reality of what was, not what I wish it had been. It also requires that I remember the limits of my power towards Sam's addiction because time and vulnerability tend to obscure my thinking. I know that I did everything I could for him with love and acceptance.

Sam had to be the one to save himself but unfortunately, the drugs took that choice away from him.