Lesson 32

I remember my first dog. He was black, and big... or at least in my 2 year old mind he was big. His name was Bear, and I remember him mostly playing in the snow. I'm not sure why I don't remember a whole lot else about him, maybe just the black dog on the white snow stands out. I also remember when our next door neighbor ran over him with their car. I remember Nana telling me that he died and went to dog heaven. I remember being really pissed, so pissed I wanted Nana to call the police to "tell them not to runned Bear over anymore." Nana and Bub had to put down one of their dogs last week. Duke was old, riddled with cancer, and was starting to have more bad days than good. You loved Duke. Every time you'd visit,  he'd be at your heels waiting for dog biscuits. Every time I took you to Sam's you'd ask to buy 2 boxes of dog biscuits. One for Ozzie, and one for Duke. When Nana told me they were putting Duke down, and that I'd have to tell you, I cried. Not because of the dog, but because I didn't want to have to try and have that conversation. I knew a 3 year old has no concept of "dead" and I knew I couldn't tell you that they had him put down. How do you tell a 3 year old that Nana "killed" her dog because he was sick. However, in typical William fashion, as soon as I choked out that Duke had been sick, the doctor couldn't make him better, and he died, you looked at me and asked to watch Cars. You didn't ask many questions, though the last few nights at bedtime you've been a bit talkative about dying and people dying. I still got to dodge the bullet on Duke being put down. Which brings me to lesson 32.

It's going to happen. One day, you're going to have to make the call about a life. With an animal, it's easy. You can see they're in pain, you want it to stop, and while you love them, you know it's best to have them put down because it's inhuman to keep an animal alive if you can end its suffering. For humans, it's tricky There is a difference between living and being alive. You have to think about what is best for the person (or animal) that is ill. Are they going to get better? Are they in pain? Are they able to do anything but lie in a bed? You're forced to decide what that person would want, and you have to fight your own thoughts and emotions to make a decision. Let me tell you now, your Dad and I both wouldn't want to be kept alive by machines if there was no hope for us to recover. If we're ever in a coma that we can't come out of, just let us go. I saw my grandmother die. She went into a hospital on a Monday and died the next Sunday. While I miss her, even more when I take you and your brother to the park, it does make me feel better knowing that even though she died, she died without pain. She wasn't a vegetable for years, wasting away. At the time, it seemed like she was just giving up and we were letting her. Now that I'm older, I understand. I can't promise it will be easy, because it won't. I can promise that if you ever have to decide something like this, that with time, it won't hurt as bad, and it will give you some comfort knowing that they didn't suffer or hang on with machines after the person was "gone."

Lesson 31

Before Nana married Bub, before she married Eric, she was married to my father. You probably won't hear about him much, if at all, but during the move, some pictures of me when I was about your age were found. He was in them and you asked who he was. This isn't the first time you've asked about my "Dad." Without getting too detailed, the truth is, my father is/was an abusive asshole. He liked to hit your Nana in front of us or not, he didn't care. When Nana divorced him, he threatened her and left her with 2 kids, a ton of bills, and scared. After the court awarded child support to Nana, he took off. Once in awhile, after child support enforcement would find him, he'd pop up. Only to take off again to avoid paying child support. After you were born, he tried to contact me. I didn't and don't want anything to do with him, I don't think he deserves to know you or your brother. Not to mention, I don't want you to be exposed to him at all. My aunts say it's out of bitterness (he of course has told them a very different story about what happened, but I was 13 and certainly old enough to remember things for myself.) I say that he had plenty of chances and for the good of myself and my family, I want nothing more to do with him. This brings me to lesson 31.

Sometimes, you have to cut people out of your life. Not out of revenge, or anger, but because you just can't take anymore of their shit. I might still be in contact with Danny Sr. if he hadn't fit the bill of an abuser so well. He saw us as a way to get back at your Nana and anytime he could string us along he would. Your uncle was too young to remember much about what happened during their marriage, but still, when he was around 25 he ended up cutting Sr. out too after Sr. had called him a year or so before. Only you can decide who you want or don't want in your life. If someone makes you unhappy more than happy, there is nothing wrong with not having anything to do with them. I'm not talking about that annoying family member who talks to loud at a party and likes to stay long past their welcome. I'm talking about toxic people who do more to hurt you than help. Never be afraid or feel obligated to just cut them loose. It will make your life better, you'll learn to get along without them, and one day you'll realize you're happier without them.