After an insanely confusing, exhausting and heartbreaking three days in Broken Arrow, I hardly remember the drive home to Texas. I know I felt numb and like there were no more tears to be shed, but other than that, nothing. I was so tired, both physically and emotionally and yet I had to go back to work the next day. I still had many boxes to sort through, decisions about Daddy's property to be made, cars to sell, and bills related to his death to pay. I was overwhelmed by of all of the things that must be done when someone dies.
Going back to work the next day was surreal. One thing that is different when a loved one who is an alcoholic dies, is that nobody quite knows what to say to you. There are few condolences, only a couple of flowers sent personally from very dear friends, no prepared meals, no cards from bosses or work acquaintances, none of the extra love that usually occurs when a loved one passes away. It was almost like it didn't even happen. Now, to be very clear, I have some close, precious, wonderful friends who took excellent care of me during that time, and continue to do so today. Without one particular friend, I am quite certain, I would not have made it through the months after Daddy's death. Her insight, example and level of care and concern has been incredible to me; she too, is the adult daughter of an alcoholic who also lost her father. But, in general, to a lot of people it seemed like it never happened and that hurt my feelings for quite awhile until I realized that it wasn't really their fault. How could they be expected to know how I felt when I wasn't even sure of my emotional state myself? I hadn't even been speaking to Daddy, How could I expect anyone to know how badly I hurt?
One person I spoke to at length was our resource officer at the high school campus where I work. I told him the story of LaRoy and the charges on Daddy's accounts. I shared all of the pictures of the apartment and told him about the condition of Daddy's body. I explained about the cars and the money that I felt sure was missing. I told him everything. He felt certain that I was correct in thinking that something was very wrong in the way Daddy's death was handled and convinced me that I needed to talk to the Broken Arrow Police Department again. And so I called the detective who was at the apartment that night and expressed my concerns. He was kind and appeared to listen, but basically told me that since Daddy had been cremated, there was little that could be done. I asked him about LaRoy and he said that the police were familiar with him. They knew that he often befriended older persons whom he thought had some money, but they had not been able to charge him with anything. He promised to go over to the apartment complex and speak to LaRoy and said he would call me back once he interviewed him. I never received that phone call. Around the same time, I spoke to the apartment manager and expressed my concerns to him. He wasn't quite as receptive but told me he had not seen LaRoy in a few days. I am reasonably certain that no one ever went back to interview LaRoy and that he absolutely got away with taking everything he wanted from my Daddy, right down to his very life. While I can't prove anything, God knows what happened and someday LaRoy will answer to Him. I do know that my Daddy is now in a better place, free of his addictions and pain. And I know that he loves us still.....we've had many signs to prove it.
Going back to work the next day was surreal. One thing that is different when a loved one who is an alcoholic dies, is that nobody quite knows what to say to you. There are few condolences, only a couple of flowers sent personally from very dear friends, no prepared meals, no cards from bosses or work acquaintances, none of the extra love that usually occurs when a loved one passes away. It was almost like it didn't even happen. Now, to be very clear, I have some close, precious, wonderful friends who took excellent care of me during that time, and continue to do so today. Without one particular friend, I am quite certain, I would not have made it through the months after Daddy's death. Her insight, example and level of care and concern has been incredible to me; she too, is the adult daughter of an alcoholic who also lost her father. But, in general, to a lot of people it seemed like it never happened and that hurt my feelings for quite awhile until I realized that it wasn't really their fault. How could they be expected to know how I felt when I wasn't even sure of my emotional state myself? I hadn't even been speaking to Daddy, How could I expect anyone to know how badly I hurt?
One person I spoke to at length was our resource officer at the high school campus where I work. I told him the story of LaRoy and the charges on Daddy's accounts. I shared all of the pictures of the apartment and told him about the condition of Daddy's body. I explained about the cars and the money that I felt sure was missing. I told him everything. He felt certain that I was correct in thinking that something was very wrong in the way Daddy's death was handled and convinced me that I needed to talk to the Broken Arrow Police Department again. And so I called the detective who was at the apartment that night and expressed my concerns. He was kind and appeared to listen, but basically told me that since Daddy had been cremated, there was little that could be done. I asked him about LaRoy and he said that the police were familiar with him. They knew that he often befriended older persons whom he thought had some money, but they had not been able to charge him with anything. He promised to go over to the apartment complex and speak to LaRoy and said he would call me back once he interviewed him. I never received that phone call. Around the same time, I spoke to the apartment manager and expressed my concerns to him. He wasn't quite as receptive but told me he had not seen LaRoy in a few days. I am reasonably certain that no one ever went back to interview LaRoy and that he absolutely got away with taking everything he wanted from my Daddy, right down to his very life. While I can't prove anything, God knows what happened and someday LaRoy will answer to Him. I do know that my Daddy is now in a better place, free of his addictions and pain. And I know that he loves us still.....we've had many signs to prove it.