Amy Winehouse - Musician, Artist, Daughter, Friend

My memory of Amy Winehouse will always involve her Back to Black album (2006)...her voice, that retro soul vibe, and catchy lyrics...every store I walked into during my study abroad the summer of 2009 was either playing Amy Winehouse or Michael Jackson as I hopped from country to country...so no matter what language was spoken the music comforted me... her music's impact will never be considered fleeting...and the songs that exist although few will be treated as treasures and serve as inspiration for generations to come...

The world lost a great artist but her friends and family lost a person who held a place in their hearts...these are the people who spent their days and nights worrying about her...hoping she was safe...really hoping that this time was the last time...that recovery road was the path she would choose...she is a person not headline fodder to the people who knew, truly loved, and wished the best for her...

While the world speculates over her death and await a toxicology screening to confirm their suspicious...a family is cursing the disease and maybe even the complications that come with recovery that took their loved one, friends are probably worrying they didn't do enough...I have seen awful mean spirited things written about this talented woman...even by someone in my own family who knows the feeling of losing a family member to addiction.  The loss of someone's life is tragic...it's never funny, it's never deserved, and it's never expected even when it is...

If you're struggling with addiction, know that you are worthy of recovery...

Sober In Illinois....

PostSecret.com 6/5/11

The person who mailed this secret can't be the only one who feels this way...Getting clean and sober is a lot of hard work...I read of it every day among my Twitter #XA friends...years into recovery and the struggle for sobriety still there...Life is never as easy as we want it to be or sometimes even need it to be...the best decisions sometimes just don't result in a perfect or even ideal outcome...Being a grown up sometimes sucks...But whether your lonlieness is a symptom of the disease or a result of the cure...there is only one you...you have something to offer this world...and I refuse to believe that getting clean and sober is ever a mistake...I'm proud of you...and I'm just a girl in somewhere in the world...

Sometimes a song really captures emotion...the song below does just that...I couldn't post video because of some licensing rules but if you click the link below it will take you to the official video on YouTube...

Barlow Girl- Never Alone

Drugfree.org Share

I shared the entry below on drugfree.org last month...

I'm not an addict, I'm not the parent of an addict - I am a daughter and a sister caught in the middle of addiction looking for a voice.
How do you become a sister with no brother? Well the story begins something like this...A smart, loving kid from a good home...and then ends with, tragically he lost his battle with addiction in December of 2005. I have read stories like these so many times...too many times. Brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, unable to break the chains of addiction. My family's story is no different - full of pain, worry, hope, unfailing love, and faith. My brother did lose his battle with addiction in December 2005. The coroner even told my mom that his 23 year old organs were that of a heavy drug user. He started abusing prescriptions as a teenager - stealing from medicine cabinets with his friends - numbing the pain of their boring suburban lives. They stumbled upon Oxycodone not knowing that it would be the pill that would cause the struggle of his life. His teenage years and 21st birthday went by with many struggles - lost weekends, tales of Ketamine distribution, dodging the DEA, treatment programs, and eventual methadone treatment. I watched and listened to it all as a college student and young adult kind of helpless...never knowing what to believe when he or my parents relayed these frightening scenes. Even when we all thought he was clean, on his wedding day I noticed syringe caps on his spare bedroom's floor. He told me they were old but I shouldn't have believed. Around the time his daughter was born, we all believed the nightmare was over. He was working on coming off the methadone treatments...but one night he mixed methadone with another drug and he was gone. I lost my only sibling. I was a sister with no brother.
I put on the brave face to support my family. I even sang Amazing Grace at his funeral. I cried when I was alone but I held it together for my parents. I wanted everyone to see that I was OK.
Over a year later, I was approached by a friend, who was an addiction counselor at a county jail, to come share my story with a group of inmates who were housed in a special unit working on their sobriety. I felt very unqualified to speak to anyone about addiction or recovery but I said yes. I knew I had a story but I was not quite sure how to share it or if anyone even wanted to hear it. My mother gave me the connection I needed. These men and I at least had one thing in common, a momma. I showed them a picture of my brother from Thanksgiving with our mother and his daughter on the last day I saw him alive. I read aloud my mother's journal entries beginning the day my brother died. I pointed at an oversized version of my brother's death certificate showing the cause of death so they could see that death by overdose was real. The truth that I was not very close to my brother was exposed as I explained how hard it is to be around someone who is always high. I shared the reality of having rehearsed hearing that my brother was found dead and what I would say to my parents to comfort them in some small way. I shared my feelings of fear and anger that not only had I lost a brother but also the mother I had known.
When I walked into the jail that day all of the fear and doubt left my body as I told this story to a room full of inmates. I cried with grown men over the death of my brother and the pain my family endured. It was the first time I had really opened up about my brother's addiction struggle and his eventual death. I'm not sure I helped anyone that day but they helped me. I think as a sibling I have a unique perspective on addiction because it's like being an outsider who is on the inside.

Happy Birthday Brother...

Today is your birthday...you're 29 years old...can you believe it?  ...it seems like only a moment ago that you were skateboarding in the driveway sporting a rat tail, jams and a Rude Dog t-shirt...

A tax day baby...I picture the tax day baby kind of like the New Year's baby except in green with dollar bills scattered on the floor around him...easy birthday to remember on a day most adults would rather forget...but it was the day you were born so I know our parent's look fondly on tax day...Althought I don't remember anyone ever freaking out about taxes either...it's just one of those standing jokes...I guess I'll get the punch line one day when I'm paying and not getting a refund!  Eeek.

The first couple of years...I made sure I was home for your birthday...to be there when the moments were very rough...I called first thing this morning to check in on mom...she was getting dressed for work...she seemed well...but I could hear the sadness in her voice...I don't think it will ever disappear completely especially on your special day...I haven't called dad yet today but I called him yesterday afternoon (he sent me a text, so weird that he texts)...he was at the movies with your daughter...I sent mom and dad cards...just reminding them they are loved...while shopping for cards the other day I was drawn to the birthday cards...so I looked...cards to brother, to brother from sister...they stay on the shelves because you aren't here to give them to...

So I dig into my memory banks to remember a birthday party from the past...a memory to share...we lived on Pine Log Road...your birthday was either on Easter or during Easter weekend...b/c there was an Easter egg hunt...and there were Easter baskets involved...and your dog (Bama or Alabama - cause we had both...named after - the band Alabama) bit Pa Pa...he had on a red shirt...and that dog had a weird thing with the color red...dogs are supposed to be color blind...but that dog could see the color red and it made him mad for some reason! 

Your life was too short...you couldn't do what needed to be done to live (you know, barring some other catastrophic event)...

So for your birthday let's make a wish...a wish for someone else...a wish for someone else's sobriety...

For more information on getting help (meetings, counselors,etc.):
Alcoholics Anonymous: www.aa.org 
Narcotics Anonymous: www.na.org
Alateen - www.al-anon.alateen.org
Partnership for a Drug Free America - www.drugfree.org

That day...

Dear Brother:

My friend C and I were out Christmas shopping...you know, not quite last minute...I remember the sun was shining...we were riding in her car...on our way to Target...my cell phone rang...mom was on the other end...she, Uncle G and J were on their way to Columbia...ODD...but not so odd that I questioned them too much...I explained my need to go to Target but mom said I should go straight home...believing that time was on my side I went to Target anyway...maybe not the best decision in retrospect but I knew deep inside that if I didn't go then, it wasn't going to happen...

I hung up the phone...relived the conversation with C...then began speculating the reason for the impromptu jaunt to Columbia...it's only an hour drive and popular Saturday activity for my mom to shop with me...but I went to far sinister places quickly...Uncle G was with mom - my first thought was that Grandaddy was dead...but then why would Uncle G have driven with mom...someone would need to be with Granny...so then I guessed you were dead...but brushed it off...maybe someone was in the hospital...or these guys just wanted to head down to Yesterday's in Five Points for some dinner...I had to babysit that night so I couldn't do much...

Mom was sitting on the steps of the apartment building...Uncle G and J pacing the parking lot...all had to go to the bathroom (or at least that was the story for why everyone was quiet)...It was an awkward moment...mostly I thought I was in trouble for going to Target...extending their wait time for the toilet!  Mom did go straight to the bathroom, Uncle G was silent except for saying to me...that it was really bad or that it wasn't good...I knew already anyway...I was just waiting for the words...

"He's dead," said matter-of-factly...but really what other way is there to say it...I think I yelled, "no, no, no" or something similar...I remember C's hand flying to her mouth then immediately backing out of the room...at a loss for words...I hate she was there...not b/c I didn't want her there but...come on, that's awkward...especially since she and I weren't like besties for years or anything...

I'm not sure if I lost my vision, my ability to hear (as a result of a mild panic attack and shock), or just immediately tuned out...which apparently is my initial reaction to most things...I immediately wanted to be alone but I couldn't...they were there and wanted to comfort me...but I needed a minute to breathe...It didn't come....mom was feverishly packing my clothes...I wanted to do it myself...I know I just needed to control the situation...but I felt like I was watching it happen in slow motion...I was grasping at anything to give myself a since of control and balance in this chaotic moment...I had to ride with them leaving my car behind and the hope of a desperately needed hour alone to check in with myself...calm myself, make a plan for dealing with two grieving parents and the rest of the family...Mom put her head in my lap and cried most of the way home...we had to make a few calls on that drive some I remember, some I still don't...

I was worried about canceling my babysitting job...but mom ever prepared handled it for me before she came to deliver the news...she had actually stopped  in the midst of the enormity of the situation to call BN to tell him I wasn't going to be there...She called my boss to tell him as well...She later told me that she had put herself together until she could get to me.  She didn't want me to find out alone (the way she had, more later on that).

There is a lot that I don't remember about those initial hours...but I knew our lives would never be the same again...our worst fears had come true...the years of jumping at phone calls that came at odd hours...the wait to see how many days you would go missing hoping that you weren't in an alley...preparing mentally for the time that the phone or doorbell rang to deliver the news...preparing to help cope...but hoping that the news would never really come...

It feels selfish to wish you had thought about what we would all have to go through...your parents, your wife, you daughter...even me...People have to go through recovery for themselves not for others...but does the collateral damage get factored in at all?

Today she is 6...

Your little girl turned 6 years old today...she's beautiful...dark hair and dark eyes just like her daddy...she told our mom she wanted a chocolate cake with chocolate icing and sprinkles so that's what they did yesterday...she also asked for an electric guitar for her birthday...music just runs in our bloodline...when she was still a baby dad would play the guitar and she was mesmerized...we all knew that she was used to you playing to her...so it was bitter sweet to watch...she was only 6 months old...

She's starting to figure out relationships...she figured out that dad (Grandaddy) and mom (Na-Na) used to be boyfriend and girlfriend, as she called it...It was a very funny conversation...I wish I was able to see her more but I live 8 hours away now...hopefully she'll be able to come visit now that she's getting a little older...

Your not being here makes holidays and birthdays hard...but your young bride does her best to make sure your little girl sees all of her grandparents...It can't be easy for her...

You live on in that little girl...

The first time you went to rehab...

Bobby: See, that's the part I don't get, Craig. I mean, you're cool, you're smart, you're talented. You have a family that loves you. You know, what I would do just to be you, for just a day? I would... I would do so much. I would... I don't know. I would just... I'd just live. Like it meant something. (It's Kind of a Funny Story)

Dear Brother:

The first time you went to rehab...My memory is fuzzy if I found out you were at Charter before or after I went home for a visit during college...but either way I was the last to know...a secret kept from me so I didn't have to know what was going on at home...Mom, Dad and I drove over to visit you there...I remember feeling uncomfortable...but you were angry...didn't want to be there...I can't remember what you said...I remember the biting tone...your face is burned into my memory as you turned back to look at us...scared, hurt, angry but you had what they call a shit eating grin on your face...we were all hurt, scared and angry...but I don't remember ever trying to express it...I swallowed it...

Later, you told mom that they were mean maybe even abusive to you there...was it aggressive treatment or something more...that worries me...teenagers sent/going to facilities to get help...troubled often "in trouble"...easy targets for those with less than good intentions...I don't know what you went through at that place but I hate for you that you had to go...

At the time I was mad at you...mad because I saw how our parent's worried, cried, lost sleep...my victories, pains, and silly moment often downplayed b/c you were missing for days at a time...or kicked out of school...All of my friends with high school aged brothers and sisters were visiting them at college...we took them to our sorority parties...but I could not do the same...bad idea b/c you had a problem with drinking and drugs...You were also kind of a tattle-tale!  I never told anyone I was mad...or that I felt slighted...I probably made smart ass comments but I was a college kid...not equipped to realize the magnitude of things to come...I also was left out of the loop...sometimes mom wouldn't tell me what was going on but I could hear it in her voice...she worried...mostly that you were hungry, cold and maybe even alone...her worst fear was that she would get that knock on the door in the middle of the night...I'm sure all parent's have that worry when their child walks out the door...but I know how she felt.  I rehearsed the phone conversation in my head...I lived an hour away so I assumed it would be a phone call...It's a helpless place to prepare for the worst and hope for the best. 

Now I wonder if I could have helped at all...if I was being protected or if I was just blind.  The first time I heard this song below I thought of you....

The Fray - Music - More Music Videos

Show, Tell & Sniff?

There are some things that just should not be part of "Show and Tell":

Several Thomson Elementary School students were taken to a local hospital after handling or ingesting cocaine, authorities said.

Five students were transported to a local hospital. Parents took custody of another student. All children are reportedly okay.

The children taken to the hospital were between 8- and 9-years-old.

Several said they weren't feeling well and were checked out by the nurse.

D.C. police are conducting an investigation at the school, located in the 1200 block of L Street NW.

School officials said four students ingested the cocaine, either orally or by sniffing it.

School officials confirmed that the substance was cocaine. Police tested it on school grounds.

School officials said one child brought the cocaine to school and shared it with the other kids.

Police are speaking to the man who dropped off the child who brought the drugs to school. The student is believed to have picked up the drugs inside the vehicle.

The man could face possible charges, including cruelty to children.

The student who brought the cocaine to school has been charged with possession controlled substance.

Some parents learned about the drug incident through a recorded phone message from the principal.

Others found out when they picked up their child from school.

The school will hold drug education counseling Monday. (TBD)

A parent, step-father in this case, was driving the kid to school with cocaine in the car...the more than obvious reaction to that is - That's not OK!  Coming from the Just Say No generation of kids...I know kids learn about drugs early...so obviously these kids knew what to do with it...but the fourth grader who brought it...probably has more negative education about drugs than will ever be reported in the news...

Asking questions like: What kind of a person carries drugs in the car with their child? What was he thinking? - IS well, pointless...b/c whomever the person is - has become the person using/selling drugs...Now this kid is charged with possession of a controlled substance - a fourth grader...In fourth grade, I was no more interested in drugs than I was in studying for a test...and by that I mean, NOT AT ALL...I know that's not the reality everyone lives in but it seems to me that a 9 year old shouldn't be facing drug charges...You and I snorted a few pixie sticks off of the fireplace...which is weird by itself...obviously we knew snorting drugs was bad...at the time was funny and seemed like child's play...but you're gone bc of drugs...soooooooo...was it foreshadowing???

You and I grew up in the same house but you were smoking in elementary school and using words that definitely would get us a spanking - I didn't smoke my first cigarette until college...Something in you was lured by all the things that we were told to "Just Say No" to...I don't know why....sometimes I ask myself was I a bad sister?  As an older sister, I didn't want my little brother around, you were annoying, terribly clingy, and would never play games the right way (so I was a bit of a control freak even then)...you always wanted "people" (a story for another day) to be the bad guys....I of course wanted a happy little world of make believe...Those are things we should be looking back on now and laughing about...I know our parents were good parents...I was there...but I know they have moments where they blame themselves...they always will...seems to just be natural... 

I don't know that you ever snorted cocaine or would have driven around with your daughter and drugs...but this story is fresh and was on my mind...

Glee-ful

Dear Little Brother:

Last night was a Glee night...you probably don't know about Glee unless the afterlife has television - but it's singing, dancing and social commentary - all in rolled up into one high school some where in Ohio...the 23 year old you would have probably thought it was lame and the word "sellout" would probably be thrown around...but I'm hoping the 28 year old you would have enjoyed it...they've even covered Beck's I'm a Loser....Poison's Every Rose Has its Thorn...and the Beatles's Blackbird. 

I remember the Poison poster that hung on your door...You knew all of their names...we even had a dog named C.C. after C.C. Deville...knew every word to every song...and even dressed like a glam rocker...you were only like 7 years old so your rocker wardrobe was limited...but you always had plenty of guitars, microphones, drum sets - real and pieced together buckets w/ duct tape so you could jam - There is a picture of you with your kid made drum set, drum sticks in hand - rocking out with no shirt, sun glasses and a black hat that went to one of your many Freddy Krueger costumes...

Much like your rocker icons...you battled addiction...but the drugs eventually won the war...C.C. Deville is sober now, I think...I'm not sure about the other guys in the band...

Musical talent we had in common - yours born out of raw talent and a deep passion to create, write, play and sing - well singing wasn't your strongest musical talent - Mine, partly talent and years of playing an instrument in band...I could never pick up an instrument and play from the heart the way you did or spend all night writing a song like my life depended on it...but you did...

You - dead at 23 so we'll never know what could be...

Dear Brother:

I wanted this song played at your funeral but our parents went with Amazing Grace...which I sang...

Dear Brother:

You've been gone for over 5 years...I don't know why I did not write to you before today...You left in the middle of the night - no forwarding address - no time to say goodbye...with the ringing of a phone the whirlwind began...Your funeral came and went...along with the holidays and a new year began...the feelings of loss and sadness have no expiration date...it is what you decide to do with it that matters...that year I began to change...some things I still can't fully disclose on this blog but the time is coming...and maybe the road there can help someone else....


So I'm just writing to catch you up on things...see how you're doing...and let you know you're missed.


Love,
Your sister