The Alcoholic

There's a man in my life I wish that I had never met, unfortunately, I knew him all of my life. All of us have memories we wish to forget. This is one of mine. The more I walk away the more I look back. This is not just my story, this is my life.

His eyes were bloodshot red. Swaying side-to-side as he looked at me, A devilish grin was on his face. Tilting his head back he took a gulp of a bottle of liquor. While putting the bottle down, he said, "Never fall in love." He pulled out a cigarette from a pack he had and held it to his lips. "All they do is break your heart." I watched as he struggled to light a match.

"I hate you." I told him to his face.
"I know you do I always knew you did.". Finally managing to strike a match he lit up. At times like this I felt sorry for him, but there was nothing I could do. Except watch as he drank his life away. His worst experiences in life would flash as he sat there and drank. Telling me about them I wondered where would I end up listening to what he had to say. I would try to ignore and forget about it the next day. Some of what he had to say stuck with me and it always would. I knew somehow his life would affect mine. The quotes that he told me would mold me into what I will become.

I moved out when I turned eighteen. I did not become just like him as I had feared. There was one thing I knew though. I do not have self-control. So I never drank. I knew if I did I would be destined for the same fate as the man I hated the most. There are shadows you run away from and some that you just can not. Forever you will be looking back, and there you will see the man that you are. I couldn't face that man I would become if I ever started drinking. Two years later I got a call.






"Hey, it's been awhile since I have heard from you."
I was happy to hear from him, but I also knew nothing good came from our conversations. I never let him know that I was glad to hear from him.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to come by and see me."
"For what?"
"Please I need to talk to you."
A part of me missed him. The other part hated and could not forgive. There was something about the way he talked. There was kindness in his voice. I wanted to see that person.
"O.k., where you at?"
"I'm at the hospital."
"What's wrong?"
"I'm on my death bed that's pretty much what they are telling me here."
I never really cared for him, but I never wished anything bad for him. When he said death it was something I did not want to hear.
"What room are you in?"
"Room two-eleven, floor three."
"I'll be there."

As I got out of the elevator and walked on to floor three. The smell of the hospital got to me, the smell of sickness. It was a smell I remember when I walked into this hospital before. That was to see my mother and father die. Walking down that hallway made me feel nine years old again. I felt like that same confused little boy. Asking myself where was I going to be in another ten years.

As I walked into room two-eleven. There I saw my aunt crying on her husbands shoulder.
"What happened?"
She looked up at me and said.
"He's dead. He died just two minutes ago."

The doctors pulled the covers over his face. I sat in a chair next to the bed and wondered about what he had wanted to tell me. It felt unreal standing next to his body, I still could not believe he was gone. There was little we ever talked out about. Maybe he was going to finally say what he thought of me. I knew he would have only have said good things but I would have loved to hear them come from him.


I stayed until the doctors took him down to the morgue.

"Aunt Mary, what was wrong with him?"

She answered voice shaking, "His liver was gone. They warned him but he wouldnt listen."

I held her as she cried softly against my shoulder.

Two days later I went to his funeral. As they buried him I looked around, everyone was crying. I watched the casket go down.

I have never been back since. I think about him every once in a while.

When I tell people about him they ask me, "Do you miss him?"

I say "Of course, he was my uncle."