I had to struggle with that one a while, but I think I’ve done pretty well in that regard. I know my reaction if I even think I’ve hurt someone I love, so I do seem to have broken that part of the cycle! (It’s not the only reason I never had kids, but that consideration does figure into it.)
That was a moment that made me think it was possible, but the actual resolution wasn’t until decades later.
He unfortunately slipped back into the bottle soon after getting out of the hospital. Fast forward a few decades, he managed to drive off everyone in the family except his mother and the dogs – he really hit bottom then. He finally got the help he needed, both for his mental health and to get him off the alcohol.
We reconnected a few years before he died and while we were never as close as we could have been, we had some healing. He got to meet two of my partners (and welcomed them both as such,) we visited him a few times, and I got to tell him I was proud of him for making 15 years sober.
I knew the end was coming, though, when he called me before going into the hospital for another round (forth? fifth?) of cancer treatments. We immediately booked a flight to visit and got to spend some time with him before the end. He did not make it to that last round of treatments.
I can trace most of my depression to my parents, especially him. Sometimes trying to reconcile the person I knew before and after he was sober is almost impossible. I’m not sure if we ever would have gotten over those hurdles, but I like to think we would have. I’m just glad that chainsaw didn’t take away even the incomplete version we got.
(I’ve sometimes wondered what he would think of me as I’ve found a new path, a gender that fits me better, a new name. I’m just not sure. I was happily surprised by his brother who’s essential reaction was “I can’t say I understand all of it, but if you’re happy with it that’s all that matters to me.”)
