Happy New Year, everyone! Now that my head has cleared after my Blog of the Year nomination , I have an update on my younger brother, Danny. For those just tuning in to my matinee of madness, Danny is an addict, who stole more than $50K from my Grandmother and dumped her in a low-rent nursing home the Christmas of 2010. The 411 on that particular brand of chaos, begins at: http://tenaciousbitch.wordpress.com/2011/03/10/as-my-mother-lay-dying/
Unfortunately, Danny fell in love with drugs in junior high. He’s tried to quit three times in the last ten years, and after tumbling off the sobriety wagon, he, like many addicts, cried for help via suicide attempts. I’ve blogged about those events, which are not in order chronologically, but reside at:
Anyway, that said, at this point in this life, Danny has chosen to, once again, embark upon that tightrope existence known as being sober. My friend, Jack (Danny’s friend also), called on New Year’s Day to give me the news.
“Where’s he living?” I asked.
“In a halfway house owned by some church. It’s affiliated with a really HUGE church in Columbus.”
“Oh, which one?” I asked, since, of course, I live in a suburb of Columbus (Ohio).
“World Harvest,” Jack replied.
“Really? That’ s over on the East side. You know, Ashe* built that church.”
“Yeah, back in ’96 or ’97, he lived here in Columbus, and he was a Project Manager for American Church Builders. They built World Harvest’s church. I went over there to drop Max off to see Ashe a couple of times. And somewhere there’s a picture of Max, when he was 4 or 5 sitting on a bulldozer, happy as a clam, on that construction site. Ashe and his second wife actually went to World Harvest, on occasion as well.”
“Huh, well, that’s a monstrous church, like 4,000 people or something.”
“Yeah, I know,” I answered. “I hope Danny’s serious this time, for his own sake.”
“Me too, but who knows. He’d been staying with some guy he’d been working with last time I talked to him in October. And he was going to bartending school, and now he’s going to church and trying to get straight. Kind of a quick transition if you ask me,” Jack explained. “I’ll bet he just got kicked out of his buddy’s house and had nowhere else to go, ya know?”
“Yeah, could be, or maybe, he’s finally decided to kick the habit.”
“I’m afraid, he’s just staying there until something better comes along, but I hope I’m wrong.”
“Me too. We know how this song and dance usually ends up. He starts out doing really well, then ends up white-knuckling it the closer it gets to May when Mom died, and that anniversary always nixes his abstinence.”
“Yeah. He also got baptized the other night.”
“What? Why? We were all baptized when we were babies like everyone else in the Catholic Church.”
“Well, this particular church is Pentecostal, and-”
“That’s the church that Nana grew up in, and I won’t go there. We’ve gone to the Presbyterian church and a couple nondenominational Christian Churches, but the Pentecostal church is too out there for me. I remember going to Nana’s church in Georgia in grade school, and some woman started speaking in tongues, scared the pee out of me,” I said, chuckling.
Jack laughed. “Yeah, I can see that.”
“Nothing against the Pentecostal church, but I never went back. It’s just not for me. It’s too different from the formality of the Catholic church that I grew up in.”
“Yeah. Danny said getting baptized changed his life.”
“That’s what he said after watching Joel Osteen with Nana a few years ago when he said he was allegedly going to AA, but in reality, he was impersonating Dad and fraudulently requesting checks over the phone to pay his bills out of Dad’s account and taking out credit cards in Dad’s name.”
“Yeah, I don’t know how anyone can do that to their own family.”
“Me, neither. Dad gave me a card on his SuperAmerica Visa, and I never used it for anything but gas when it was like a buck a gallon, or sometimes I bought prescriptions for the boys when I was a single Mom back when Ashe lived here, and I didn’t have any health insurance. But I always called Dad first, and I would NEVER have opened an account in Dad’s name.”
“Yeah, I know. Wasn’t that card one of them that Danny ran up?”
“Yep. Jacked it up to around $4,000, and Dad had to close the account.”
Jack and I talked for a few more minutes about the Arnold Classic he was coming to town to attend in March. I invited him to stop by for dinner or lunch or something, and we said our goodbyes.
So, there you have it, ladies, and gents, the latest on the enigma otherwise known as my brother, Danny. Even though we haven’t spoken in two years, and I honestly don’t care whether I ever see him again because the thought is just too painful, I do hope this recent endeavor to break up with drugs and alcohol forever is legitimate. However, every time I see Jack’s name/number on the caller i.d., I fear it’s that call…the one punctuated by Danny wearing a toe tag in some morgue somewhere in South Carolina, but I continue to pray every night that such won’t happen, that a miracle will occur, and Danny will finally be drug free.
For an amusing post about Jack, check out: Post #29 – The Prick, the proctologist and Pigin English found at this URL:
And that’s all I have to say about that -
Over and out from Crazytown…
TenaciousBitch and company…
*Ashe was my second husband/my son Max’s father who died in 2005. He’s mentioned in several posts including: Post #58 Ashe, the sex god parked upon this URL:
and #75 – About Ashe’s logic at: