Last weekend, my heart was broken all over again. My precious daughter, Lori Cahill, died in 2006 at 39 years of age from her alcohol and drug addiction. Those who have lost know the pain. She is put to rest with her father, who also died in 1985 at 45 years of age from addiction.
I have moments of guilt where time goes by and I have buried the loss deep in the depth of my soul and hide it. I try not to relive it. UNTIL, an event brings that RAW moment to the surface.
I received a call that Lori’s dearest friend, Wendy, lost her life. She had been in and out of substance abuse rehabilitations since Lori’s death. She had been struggle to over-come the hold. For awhile, she lived in an apartment.
I remember as if it was yesterday, Lori’s funeral and Wendy was hidden in the last pew of church with tears flowing down her cheeks watching us roll Lori’s casket out of the church. I stopped and hugged her and gave her a kiss saying,”Live for Lori.” How often Wendy called me Mom.
In the picture, Lori, is on the far left at fifteen, a friend in the middle, and Wendy on the far right. All three were inseparable. It was the night of their high school prom.
This news threw me into a state as if I had just lost Lori all over again. I swear I cried non-stop for two days each time I thought about Lori’s friend. Maybe it was a closeness to Lori that I felt was now gone.
People have asked me numerous times after writing Someone Stop This Merry-Go-Round; An Alcholic Family in Crisis about losing Richie, my husband, and Please, God, Not Two; This Killer Called Alcholism about the lose of Lori, if it healed me.
No, nothing heals the loss of anyone, young or old, or from what. There is a gap that is never filled again. I see Lori’s son, who married a year ago and her daughter, who had a baby last October of 2017. How proud she would have been and excited over a grandson.
I’m writing this for all the families and friends who have lost a dear one from this horrible worldwide disease to let you know that I feel your pain and loss.
This picture brings me back to yesteryears wishing to God I could have changed things. So many of those wonderful friends of Lori’s who came to our house like a meeting place have died or are still suffering from addiction. They were so young thinking drinking was fun.
I had to share this. Tell me your story. I’d love to hear it. If you give me permission, I’ll place it here on the site so others will see how we hurt. Maybe, just maybe, someone struggling with alcohol or drug abuse will fight to live.