My Uncle is a Homeless Man
How alcoholism has taken over the life of a person whom I love so much
My childhood memories are filled with moments that I spent with my uncle. “Tío Valdo” is one of my mom’s younger brothers. He used to visit us early during the weekends with a couple of single-serve packs of Nutella just for me. I always remember him wearing some sort of boots with a pair of jean shorts. My beloved Tío Valdo was the highlight of my weekends. We spent hours hanging out, playing, or just talking. I ended up calling him “Tío Papi” (Uncle Daddy) because I often called him daddy instead of uncle.
He is the smartest person I have ever known and there is no topic that he does not have some knowledge about. I think this is because he is an avid reader. I can close my eyes and see him in our “marquesina” (garage) in a rocking chair reading a volume from our encyclopedia collection. Through the course of the years, he has helped me with homework on any topic, even those more complex when I started college.
As I got older, his visits became less frequent. His alcohol addiction kept intensifying to the point that we would not know about him for days. My mom would drive around and find him on a sidewalk, sleeping off a big drunk episode from the night before.
I will never forget the night of my “Quinceañero” (celebration of a girl’s 15th birthday). After I received a blessing and took a few pictures at the church, I saw him passing by the front of the building, very drunk and unaware of our presence. I was sad and remember shedding some tears, but not mad since I was not surprised. That was “Tío” being “Tío.”
I know very little of his past life, he is very private. He went to the Vietnam war as a volunteer following his youngest brother. During his tenure at the Army, he used to encode and decode messages. He had a short marriage of which never speaks about. He took care of my grandparents and never got over their passing.
There have been times where he would be sober and live at my parent’s house for a short period of time before he went back again to the streets. My Mom would get so furious swearing she would never try to help him again. Then, after some time, she was searching for him.
The last time I saw him, was before I moved overseas, he was sober and in a facility that was taking care of him. I was glad to see him sober and healthy. We were so relieved to know that he was sleeping under a roof, having regular meals, and medical care.
However, he was so unhappy and miserable. He wanted to leave but couldn’t because he was under their care. He started accusing the staff of stealing his Social Security and Veteran’s pension money. One day, on his way to a medical appointment, he got off the car and ran away. They found him later drunk at a bar close by.
He kept complaining until he finally got a judge to listen to him. He was so lucid, eloquent, and logical that the judge granted him his request to be released from the institution. He is now again, drunk in the streets of the town.
I feel so bad for my mother. She has tried many of times to get help for him. I can’t count all the times she found a place for him to live and ask the family to donate items for his new place. But all her efforts were in vain because he ended up losing the place because he either never came back or was evicted. On one of those occasions, she was able to get an apartment in a housing project. He left the place because he “did not want to live off the government”.
Before he got his Social Security and Veteran’s pension benefits, he would do all sorts of jobs. Handyman, construction, cleaning etc., then drink all his earnings.
I think of him so much, my heart aches. How can you help someone who doesn’t want help? I tried to talk to him about this situation, and he just ignored me, he didn’t look at me and pretend he didn’t hear me. He gave me all his love and shared his wisdom with me but was never willing to change. The help he needs cannot be forced on him, there are not enough things for us to do an involuntary commitment.
It saddens me that when people see him sleeping on a sidewalk, might think he has no one, or his family has forgotten about him. His vice has taken over his life and all the great possibilities that this amazing person could have been part of. Regardless of all this, I will always love him, reach out to him, and keep all those beautiful memories in my heart.
Thank you for reading.
