Day 308 - The only drunk I ever loved

My mother's favorite relative growing up was her Aunt Mary-Lou Harris.

Mary-Lou was an amazing, strong willed, smart woman.  A teacher, a mother, and a homemaker.

She made the most incredible peppermint ice-cream every time we visited her house.

My sisters and I were sort of in awe, but also sort of afraid of her.  After dinner, when all the dishes were done and put away she would announce, "The kitchen is closed."  And from that point on that area of the house was off limits.

You wouldn't enter the kitchen if your life depended on it.

Mary-Lou was married to Randy.  Uncle Randy had boundless energy for children.  To this day I can remember riding on his shoulders, all around their house, and feeling loved.

When my father died, Mary-Lou and Randy were right by our sides.

And then Uncle Randy did something that shocked us all.

He got drunk after the funeral.

Like blind drunk.

So drunk that Doug and several of my Uncles had to carry him to the car, drive him to his hotel, and put him in the bathtub (as per Mary-Lou's request), to sleep it off.

You see, Uncle Randy never drank.

Never.

When we told his son, my cousin Mitch, what had happened, he didn't believe us.

Uncle Randy never explained what happened.  He really didn't need to.

We all understood that he simply did not know how to deal with my father's death. He loved my Dad so much, that he had to get blind drunk to try and forget what had really happened.

And that my friends, is the story of the only drunk I ever loved.