Last evening, Swenny was terminated as a result of his alcoholism. I was surprised, while expecting this all along.
I knew his drinking had escalated. Rather than searching for hidden bottles, they were finding me, appearing as if from nowhere. After bringing one inside that I uncovered while taking out the trash, I could see his eyes searching for the memory of placing it there, unable to connect his hide with my seek.
The meeting intended for earlier this summer was finally called, with his bosses, recovery mentor and me. He knew what to expect after being asked to take a breathalyzer early in the day, to prove his bosses wrong after they smelled alcohol. He failed, but was prepared to debate the level of alcohol in his system, below what is considered intoxication. Mainly because he managed to procrastinate for more than 5 hours in order to deplete his level. Cleared on a technicality, he hoped to stay.
Again, he was missing the point. He did not meet the expectations for his second chance – complete sobriety, and at the very least, sobriety at work. He deliberately tried to deceive the people who had sought to help him, the very people rooting for his successful recovery for more than three years. And I was the last to know, finding out in an early evening phone call from his boss that we needed to meet. Audibly shaken, he told me how the day unfolded, leaving him with no other choice than to fire my husband.
Racked with sorrow for his predicament, and anger for the position he has put us in, I found my way to bed later than usual. Exhausted but unable to sleep, I finally dozed off to the feeling of being inside of a jar. As the lid was lifted, only darkness was let in. Moving further up toward the stars, there was no light to be found. Under a high canopy of night, I fell asleep realizing that I am afraid of the dark.