This post will sound vague.As it turns out the thoughts won’t go away. I need to release the words into the internet void.
About three weeks ago I saw an article in the newspaper about how the opioid epidemic has dropped in Staten Island. Check it out:: http://tinyurl.com/y6vom7bu The Big Kahuna in the universe decided, once again, to pull back the curtain.
In the past two weeks, I have come across two colleagues from the same workplace, who have been taken opioids. Two 20-something year olds are discovered, deceased, in different locations, at different parts in the relatively same geographical section of a large metropolis, due to their bodies and minds unbridled thirst for opioids.
One 20-something felt that life had kicked his family, his brother and him in the teeth. He lost one parent on 9-11. He lost the 2nd parent within 6 months to cancer. He was 6 and his brother was 4 at the time. On the older brother’s part there were layers of anger and rage, covered by a smile and personable nature. Way too early he found ways to self-medicate against the dark rages. His fingers curled around the opioid and never let go although he swore the next time he would change. In fact on Monday, he called his uncle to relay he had finally landed a job in construction, with a family friend. On Tuesday, he was found - dead. The uncle kept this incident very quiet, numbed by the grief, and not wanting to see any of the so called friends, would not attend the wake nor the funeral. Only a few people from the workplace knew the details to pay their respects.
Barely two weeks go by and another twenty something is discovered, deceased, in his bedroom. I happen to know the co-worker and her brother. The brother struggled and wrestled with the chemical disease for approximately a decade. I attended the wake. Expensive floral decorations. There was an honor guard at the funeral. Everyone avoids talking about the young man’s "disease.”
In part I am blown away by the resolve and wherewithal of the two families. I also felt it was a surreal experience to see close family and friends of the grieving family to not talk about the details surrounding the young man’s passing. In fact as I sat as still as possible, listening to the side chatter occurring in the different cliques, there was no mention at all of the young man’s name or circumstances.
I want to chalk it up to everyone deals with grief in their own particular way. I arrived early in the visiting hours and was only one person of color at the wake. Maybe they did not want to hold private conversations in front of a stranger. Maybe there are unhealthy levels of denial.