The Best Gift
My brother – Patrick – almost died a few times at the end of 2023.
It all started around Thanksgiving last year, and my sister-in-law had the courage to reach out for help to convince Patrick to go to the hospital.
She had given me a heads up during the first Covid summer that she was worried about Patrick’s drinking. I talked to Patrick and felt assured that he had a handle on things.
My husband nudged me a few times to really look at Patrick over the last few years and expressed concern. Zack was the first one to say the word cirrhosis to me to really create a sense of urgency when we were trying to dance around getting Patrick to the hospital a year ago.
Did any of us truly believe that Patrick was an alcoholic? Not me and I don’t know that anyone close to him did at the time.
When Patrick finally did get to the hospital, it was beyond obvious that he had a serious drinking problem and was on the precipice of death. All I could do was look him in the eyes as he sat in his hospital bed – and be very clear that no matter what – I would help him and his wife and children and love him fully through whatever was in front of us.
What was in front of us – day by day – was hell on earth.
My sister-in-law being told that he might not survive.
Trying to know what to say to their children about what was going on with their dad.
Telling my other brother and my parents and our children that Patrick is an alcoholic, and he is very sick.
Going through two interventions with Patrick – one at the hospital and the other at the rehabilitation center office. I am not sure there is anything worse than watching a parent beg their child to save their own life like my Dad did during those conversations. What is it about watching the grown men closest to us cry that takes the wind out of us?
Watching how much Patrick hated me for the role that I was playing in all of it – we did not even say goodbye to one another when he finally agreed to go to rehab for 30 days at what is hands down the best addiction facility in Cincinnati.
And then the downward spiral of the damage done to his body even though he was abstaining from alcohol. Almost four weeks in the hospital – most of it in the ICU – including times on a ventilator.
I don’t think I have ever screamed and cried the way that I did alone in my car in the UC Medical Center parking lot after spending a Sunday with him and watching him fade physically and mentally to the point that he did not know who I was.
I was convinced that he would not recover.
What struck me during those days was how quickly our family and friends galvanized around him. We were a unit, even when we didn’t know what to do.
We leaned into one another, pulling strength from our shared determination to see him through.
We all found the people that will show up for us – and that is one of the most meaningful gifts that a life experience like that can give.
But the best gift of it all on the other side?
Patrick is here – alive and thriving.
And he did that completely on his own – hour by hour, day by day.
Addiction is awful – and staying sober is often not a straight path.
But my brother has impressed us with his resilience and commitment.
Alcoholic Anonymous multiple times a week plus a sponsor.
Focusing on his children and showing up for them as the new and improved version of himself.
Remembering how good he is at his job.
Joining a hiking group.
What has inspired me most has been his willingness to own his recovery.
His commitment has reminded all of us of what true bravery looks like.
Patrick – you are a testament to the power of change.
You are healthier, happier, and more present than I’ve seen you in a long time. Your journey has inspired me to look at my own life and ask where I might need to grow or heal.
My brothers and I are closer than ever. We’ve learned the value of honest communication and the strength of unconditional love.
If there’s one thing this past year has taught me, it’s this: no one is beyond saving, and no family is too broken to heal.
Addiction isolates, but recovery is communal. It takes the efforts of many hands to pull someone from the brink, but it’s worth every ounce of energy.
And when it is all said and done – it comes down to the individual facing their own sobriety.
To anyone walking a similar road, know this: hope is real.
People can change.
Families can heal.
And Patrick: thank you for teaching me what it means to fight, even when every damn day can be hard.
You amaze me every single day, and you are here.
And that has been the best gift that I could ever ask for this year.
Here’s to the next year of thriving, together.