This morning I took a drive over to
Falmouth Hospital to see a cousin who I knew had some surgery but I had no idea
how sick he had really become. I last saw him when I dropped him off at a detox
facility excited for the possibility he would get clean and sober. The last
thing I said was “I don’t judge you by your past, but I will hold you
accountable for the future.”
He was happy to accept the challenge. But now that he has finally made a
commitment to a future it seems tenuous. Seems that as he confronts the alcohol
addiction that has ruled much of his life it is arguing for the last word.
In the hallway a nurse shook her head and said, "if you think this is bad you should see our Tribal babies being born with addiction."
In the lobby as I was leaving I
found another cousin in need of a ride home after a night in the ER fighting similar
demons. She was pecking at her phone trying to raise a cab.
“I’m going that way,” I told her.
We avoided downtown Falmouth road construction detours that make it easier to solve a Rubik’s Cube than get from Main Street
to Mashpee and took the shore route. She tipped her face toward the sunlight
drinking in the warmth that belied the chilly sea breeze.
“I love this route. It’s so
beautiful,” she said, all melancholy. She lost her son last year. After
realizing she couldn’t drink the pain away she went to detox and got clean - for
a while.
“I’m gonna drink today,” she told
me. “I know I shouldn’t.”
“I don’t judge,” I told her.
“You’re the only one who knows how to tend to your wounds.”
We are all wounded. We have all
lost someone. Lately it seems with such regularity that the funerals have
become commonplace. Last week it was a young father soon to be wed. A much
loved young man who seemed to have his whole life waiting for him.
I have been fortunate that my own
children have been able to avoid the alcohol and drug demons. Still the way that addiction has ravaged our Tribe touches me
deeply. I want to do something but I feel like an outsider who has little to
offer in this war that is snatching up our next generation with the ease of a herring net dipped in Mashpee River.
My cousin shook her head. The Tribe
needs to turn some attention away from that damn casino and pay attention to
what is happening. And the drug dealers, they need to be held accountable.
“Don’t know how they sleep at
night,” she said.
They aren’t invisible, but they
sure seem to be inured to the damage they are doing. And why not, as we protect them
while they kill our kids.
I dropped her off and headed home
still wondering what to do. Something has to be done. Don’t know what it is, but
something.
We are all accountable for the
future.
