The Unforgotten

I lost a friend to alcohol.

And when I think of him, I can't think of very many times when we didn't get together over a few drinks. His funniest moments were when he had had several drinks in him. Usually, beer.

By the time anyone realized he had a drinking problem, it was too late to save his marriage. Despite counselling, despite losing his marriage, despite the pleas from his two wonderful daughters, despite a few visits to the hospital for alcohol poisoning, my friend couldn't get sober.

He died, alone, on the Thanksgiving weekend of 2015. When he didn't show up at his wife's house, where she was hosting a dinner to which he had been invited, his wife walked a few doors down to where he was living, to see what was keeping him, only to find him no longer living.

I heard the horrible news that evening and I was shaken. Such a good guy—smart, funny, a gentle soul—who loved his kids more than anything, and yet couldn't get that monkey off his back.

I awoke early the next morning, before the sun got up, and went for a drive with my camera. The whole time, my friend was on my mind. I would never see him again, never laugh at his wit and jokes. His family would never share precious time at the holidays. He would never see his girls grow to adulthood.

I took many photographs while I waited for the sun to come up, but I can't look at this one without thinking of my friend. Perhaps because, for me, I got to see another sunrise.

The first time that I took a break from drinking, I did it with him in mind. Though I knew I didn't have a problem with alcohol, I wanted to prove to myself that I didn't need to have a drink to have a good time. I've taken a break from drinking several times over the past few years and each time, my friend comes to mind.

I miss him dearly. I wish there was something I could have done. Living in different cities from one another, there was little I could do but lend a voice.

I've taken a break from drinking, yet again, after realizing that I had been drinking steadily for more than three weeks. Since I've stopped drinking, my friend is once again in my thoughts. "I'm doing this for me," I tell myself, "but I'm also doing it for you because you couldn't stop."

I initially decided to pause my drinking for a week. That week ends today.

But I have no desire to start up, just yet, and so I'll continue my dry spell, remembering the unforgotten.