“I could have done more” my mom says over a year after my sister died. Killed herself? Couldn’t stay sober? Knew she could die but couldn’t control the urge?
I stare at my mom in shock, hurt, and horror. She was obsessed with my sister’s addiciton back then- All she read, discussed, did was about it. She would stay up for hours reading blogs, books, journals- anything. She would take furious notes and memorize lines and lines of medical jargon. It felt like nothing else existed. So now, sitting across from her as an adult, I think- how can I tell her that if she had done more, she would have lost her other children in another way. I can no longer be angry, because now Ava is dead and you can’t speak ill of the dead…