There has continued to be a mystery surrounding Pete’s
death. The whole thing is “did he or didn’t he?” In my mourning, I’ve taken to
chatting it up with Pete’s old co-worker, John. In my open sitting area at my
internship, John often stops in and lifts my spirits as I get to know him and
occasionally sneak in conversation about my other friend. Sometimes he sits in
the same seats that Pete used to sit in and I kind of think that’s Pete’s way
of sending us to one another to comfort one another in his loss. Since then, I’ve
learned that John is married with two children and he battles alcoholism. He
was kind enough to invite me to his graduation from his AA program, the same
program that Pete attended. It was to start at 5:30. I arrived at 5.
Now I don’t want to sound like some kind of time Nazi, I’m
quite the opposite. Traffic is just such a beast in my neighborhood, that if I
have something to attend in the afternoon, I often forego going home and just
sit around and twiddle my fingers until it starts. The graduation was at the
same church where I’d dropped Pete off, and the same place that I went to the
chapel alone that Friday night. I looked around, hoping to find a crowd that
could direct me, as there was 3 buildings and multiple entrances to pick from.
Eventually I approached the only person I saw, and asked if he knew where the
graduation was. He informed me that I was an hour early and that it starts at
6:30, not 5:30. I asked where the closest coffeehouse was because I had some
homework to do. Long story short, the man and I started talking. His name was
Todd and he was formerly a member of the program, Covenant Community. He got
sober in 2009 (hope I remembered the year right) and he happened to be the
house manager where Pete died.
I tried not to pump him for info, but I find that Pete was
so incredible, people can’t wait to share their fond memories of him. Todd
shared his last memories of Pete. He saw Pete that Saturday afternoon, where he’d
attended a meeting and seemed in good spirits. He said that from there, Pete
did yard work. I asked him the million dollar question. “Do you think Pete relapsed?”
He said that he’d heard the whispers, and he simply didn’t believe it. He
shared that Pete needed help and that he knew it and he asked for it. He said
Pete stuck to it and was committed to getting it right this time. He said that
in his gut, Pete was clean and sober when he took his last breath. I needed
those words so much. He excused himself to talk to someone else a few moments
later.
Something interesting happened as I watched Todd. I loved
his interaction with the guys in the program. So many smiles and jokes. These
people were genuinely happy for one another. So much love and genuine pride in
what they were doing and what they’d done. I wanted to share in their joy and
be a part of their process. I wanted to do that!
Honestly, that was the first time in years that I’d had that feeling. As I wrap
up school, and look for a job, plenty of case management jobs are available,
but I detest case management. This is going to sound super elitist, but working
with people that are poor and or have mental illness is draining to me, because
while a lot of people want to improve their situations, many people do not. Its
mind numbing to sit in front of people and churn out notes about folks that
just come see you because they want money, not because they want to improve
their situations. But I could completely get behind working with women with
substance abuse issues.
In my alone time there, I looked up on my phone how I could go
about getting certification to become a substance abuse counselor. I felt
rejuvenated. I couldn’t help but to feel that Pete led me here to this exact
moment. I looked up one program that required 4,000 hours of supervision. That’s
2 more years of full-time supervision. I’m just coming out of a 3 year master’s
program. NEXT! I looked at a few more sites and programs that didn’t look
legit. I called my dad and asked how to get this process started. Of course
with him being a former drug user and a current drug abuse counselor, I knew
that he’d love yet again to see his daughter follow in his footsteps. He gave
me the number of friend of his that could point me in the right direction.
Later I called a classmate to ask her opinion and she suggested I chat with the
teacher of her Drug & Alcohol Abuse class. She said that he’s passionate
about us getting certified by the time we graduate. *fingers crossed*
The program started at 6:30, but it quickly occurred to me
that I wouldn’t be able to stay for the whole thing. If I’d have thought about
it, I would have driven home to grab my son, but I didn’t, leaving him home
alone. My plan was to be there from 5:30 until 6:30, home by 7. Things starting
at 6:30 put me home by 8, which was too late for my 9-year-old. With my heavy
load these days, I’m still juggling to cook dinner, my homework, his homework,
etc. I congratulated another coworker that was graduating, then I located John
and chatted it up with his wife for a while, but eventually, I had to leave.
As I drove home on the highway, I saw signs that said that
I-85 was closed because of a fire. What? Typically if there’s a vehicle fire,
signs will tell you to just use caution. Being a complete city girl, I simply
got off at a mid-town exit, and casually strolled on home. I checked online and
saw a huge part of that part of the highway emblazoned. My first thought was “rush
hour traffic is going to be a bitch for the next few weeks as the fix this.”
Little did I know at the time?
Yesterday, I looked on Facebook and for some odd reason, I
chose to look up videos and eventually had the idea to look for videos of Pete.
It was just like the dozens of pics he had of his daughter, but then I was
lucky enough to find a video of him and his daughter. A video!!! I clicked on
it and tears welled up. I wanted so badly to see his face again. The video was
beautiful, of him holding his infant daughter and laughing. That was the most
beautiful thing I’d seen in forever. I love the word beautiful. Pete used it
often. And here I was, staring at the beauty of my friend, sharing the beauty
of his love for his daughter. It was like he was alive again. Sometimes there
are moments where I forget he’s dead. I’ll Google him, as if I’m doing a
general checkup. And the first site that pops up is his obituary. He really is
dead.
While I was on Facebook, I saw an update from Pete’s sister.
She thanked everyone for their outpouring of love and support. She thanked the organizations
that worked with Pete, including the one I intern with. She spoke again of how loving and funny he was. Then she
wrote those words again. He really did die of a heart attack. His heart
stopped. It was his heart! He was sober. Thank God. He didn’t let go or give
up. Pete has continued to tell me that how he died didn’t matter. I’ll never
get to know for sure. But for now, I’ll stick with believing and trusting that
my friend went out clean. He valued his life and his decisions and his
daughter. Pete won.
