Uncle Paul

My Dad told me that Uncle Paul has been given a month to live.

Uncle Paul was doing alright for himself at one point, so I'm told.
However, for my entire life he has always been the weird uncle who lived in the bungalow at my grandparents place. He was an alcoholic and not real trustworthy. Seemed to constantly frustrate the rest of the family as he'd get himself into trouble and need rescuing, heirlooms and furniture would disappear, would promise to be at things and never show, lost his car
licence a million times. Never married, living off disability, he was one of those scary old dudes who spent their days in the pub.

To me, he is a man who took his life and completely wasted it. I completely understand that alcoholism isn't a choice. At a simple level alcoholism can be an allergy. Your body is allergic to a food type and craves it.

At a more complex level, it is a part of ones personality. An addictive personality where you obsess over something and your brain tells you that you need it - the fight against that is a constant battle, a struggle fought random minutes when the brain is not focused on anything else.

At an even more complex level it's a sickness, as illogical and hard to comprehend as eating disorders. I don't know much about that side of it.
Actually, I'm not sure if any of this is accurate, it's just what I've been told.

The thing is that I have similar allergies to Brandy that my uncle has and I know for sure that I have an addictive personality that I try very hard (and not always successfully) to control.

My uncle has served as a living reminder to what could happen if I let myself go. Sometimes I feel like the easiest and funnest thing in the world would be to waste myself all the way up and stay there but the image of the scary, dishevelled, complete mess of a man snaps everything back.

It's the pity and frustration in the way everyone talks down to him that keeps me good.

I don't have any spare life to waste.

I'm sorry your life turned out the way it did but I will hold onto your memory. I'm sorry it's for the wrong reasons.

Goodbye Uncle Paul.