Which Luke?

Day 645.

Today England beat Sweden and made it into the semifinals of the World Cup.

As the final whistle blew, I was momentarily happy, and then the familiar flood of tears followed. Luke should be here for this! The first time in 28 years that we’ve made it to the semis, and he’s not here to enjoy it.

The first of many events that should be a happy time, yet not quite, because he’s not here to enjoy it with us. He’s not here for us to witness his euphoria. A massive and knowledgable football fan, the one of us that would have lead the euphoria. A victory tainted by the loss of him.

But in truth, if he was alive, how would it have looked?

Do I just imagine a sober Luke? What would it have really been like? Amped by a drug and alcohol fueled celebratory frenzy, it would have been tough.

How am I to remember him?

When anything good happens, I imagine how it would be to have Luke here. I remember him/imagine him at everyday events at my side, commenting, laughing, chatting. Without the real living Luke, it is just an imagining.

Which Luke should I choose to imagine?

Of course, my instinct is to imagine the true Luke underneath the drug use. But then, the truth is somehow missing and so I turn to the possible reality of Luke, twisted by his addiction, his lack of impulse control, the need to use.

So is my fate to always remember the two Lukes?

Would the great events of our lives going forward always be a toss up between the two versions of him - in active addiction and out?

Would the anxiety of Luke celebrating in drug use have ruined our great events just as his death does?

If he had been sober, would I fear that such celebrations would lead to relapse?

If he was not sober, would I fear that such celebrations would lead to a substance fueled acceleration of his condition? Or worse? His death?

Well the worst has happened, and yet I still live in fear of it. Am I never to be released from this, the torment and destruction of having an addicted child, loving the person, hating the disease?