The Road To Hell Is Paved With Good Intentions

We were at Virginia Beach during Summer vacation - the whole family; myself, my two just- beyond- middle- age parents, my three littles, my aunts, uncles, cousins, even my aging grandparents who made use of all of the handicap accommodations that our beachfront hotel offered. It was a delight to be there, on the coast, enjoying the lazy days of a July summer. I walked out to the beach and see my Mom and Aunt enjoying some nice steamed shrimp along with their cocktails at the beachfront cafe. Picture perfect, right? Facebook Post worthy? Keep listening.

I check in with my Mom who tells me that she is eating light because we are all going to have a big family dinner with lots of fresh seafood later. She excitedly shares this plan with me between sips of her vodka tonic through her little cocktail straw. Yep, she drank through those. She liked it that way. I nodded my acknowledgement and walked out to the beach and at long last, stretched out on my towel and dove into my novel. Peace. My Dad and cousins were "watching" my kids, as they all watched cartoons inside, taking a break from the hot sun. So I had a small stretch of time to myself. It was very rare in those days. It was good.

I go back into the hotel after about 75 luxurious minutes and as my eyes are adjusting to the darker indoor light, I notice a familiar figure walking slowly down the hallway, who then slurs to a gentleman unknown to anyone in our clan, "Hey what are you drinking", as she tips up her rocks glass. My eyes adjust a little to the light and my heart does a sudden, but familiar, jump to my throat. Its Mom. Her sundress is slipping off her shoulder. Wait .. its on ... backward? She stumbles a little farther along and tries to enter a hotel room two door up from ours. All good intentions aside, she's sloppy at the turn of Happy Hour.

I spring into action and collect my selves. I get her quietly to the right door, away from the public walk of shame. Once in the room of our family, all bets are off and there is no need to pretend. The shit show continues. "Surprise, kids", Grandma's home.

I say I collect my "selves" in this moment because, there are layers of me that all react in different ways at this time. The inner twenty seven year old thinks"Safety first, get into the room and hide the shame. Avert disaster." The inner sixteen year old thinks "Oh my God, Mom, how humiliating!?! And who even was that guy you were talking to?" The inner eleven year old thinks, "Can you walk? Are you going to fall down? What is happening?" The inner five year old thinks, "Where is my Mommy inside of this person that I don't know? This is not her and I need her to come back!" These all flash through simultaneously as hot blood flashes through my body and I am temporarily frozen.

Well, we get inside to our inner sanctum of safety and all carries on. Interestingly ... oddly... the kids don't even look up from Animaniacs. Mom finishes her drink and somehow finds more Chardonnay. I encourage everyone to start getting ready for the next part of the day. Dad utters a "God Dammit" under his breath and goes out to the balcony.

Proceed to getting ready for dinner. My small crew ended up having popcorn shrimp and fries at the boardwalk carnival stand. Mom "napped". The rest of the family did actually make it to a nice, sit, down, seafood dinner. All carried on as if this were part of a normal family vacation.

About an hour later, I see Dad and Aunt T helping Mom walk down to the carnival so she could spend time with her Grandkids. She had woken up, crying and upset that she wasn't with her Grandkids. She couldn't have made the two block walk alone, so Dad held her by the elbow. Pissed but supportive.

I know she had genuine and kind expectations of a joyous family dinner with everyone together. In her excitement, she over drank. Her day drinking stole her night away from her, and us. She'd as, usual in this circumstance, wake up the next day bright and cheery, get coffee and walk on the beach and talk about what a wonderful day the upcoming hours would offer. New day, new possibilities New intentions.

She didn't mean for, or want alcohol to steal parts of her vacation and cherished family time with grandkids who live 1700 miles away in the Rocky Mountains. She'd be horrified to see herself from the outside looking in, like a person other people intentionally swerve away from to avoid interaction with. That drunk lady. Many would think, "Well, why just not drink on vacation?".

By that time in her otherwise inspiring and healthy life, she was drawn to liquor like a moth to a flame. She was addicted but in no way, shape or form was going to admit that. She didn't want help and got pissed at anyone who suggested it.

So .. we carried on. We continued. We found some times to capture some happy memory evidence to post on our version of the family vacay photos. The kids got indulged with a lot of sugary treats and beach souvenirs. We looked at each other and silently agreed to keep up the charade. Because we had no clue how to do otherwise.