Red Flags are warnings, listen well

My youngest son is a singer/songwriter who performs and for many years now I have attended his shows any time I can possible make it there. Through the process of going to the shows,
I have met and become friends with a lot of people and continue to meet new people at every show. This is the story of a young lady in her early twenties who I had seen off and on for a couple of years but not had an in-depth conversation with until this night.

Over these years I have met people who are going through a wide variety to difficult situations. I go out for the night to hear my son perform on the stage, yet so much happens at my table and I have learned that many of these people are often weighed down with issues they are trying to work through.

I heard the beginning of one of my favorite songs, “Bird on a Powerline”, just as she sat down at my table that evening.  What a cutie pie she was, with long crimped blonde hair and those big blue eyes. I had known her for a couple of years and talked to her often but only superficially. No depth to our conversation until right now. It was with great purpose that she had arrived at my table. 

I will call her Susie for this story. Her issue of concern was with the man with whom she had fallen deeply in love. The problem was one that she did not feel comfortable talking to her parents about because she felt it would turn them against him. That was the last thing she wanted. She loved him and had high hopes of spending her life with him.

It turns out that I knew her boyfriend and had seen him many times at Eric’s shows. He was adorable, you might say he was the life of the party. This was a fun, funny, likable guy every time I had seen him. He seemed respectable, caring and was a very attractive young man. When she told me who it was I was astounded and wondered what in the world could be wrong. My heart told me she had to be confused or maybe this problem would turn out to be nothing…

“He is an alcoholic”, she blurted out. “He cannot drink one or two, he drinks until he turns into a monster.” She said, “He is worse than Jeckle and Hyde. All of the wonderful traits vanish when he gets drunk.”  She continued on, saying that he never was physically abusive, but he was a falling down drunk that had to be driven home, helped inside and put to bed.

“I love him with all my heart”, “My parents think he is the greatest guy ever”, “what can I do?”

I asked her if she had talked to him about her concerns and she said she had. He brushes it off like it is nothing. He does not see it as a problem. But she said it happens every single time he drinks, as a matter of fact he is getting drunk right now”…she pointed across the room as he raised up a shot with his buddies.

“Ms. Juanita, what advice can you give me?” I sat there unsure of what I would say. I knew what I wanted and needed to say but feared it would be too severe for her to hear. I looked at the distraught face of this beautiful, confused young woman and I took a deep breath. Then I spoke.

“You should sit down with him when he is fully sober. Tell him this is serious and he needs to listen carefully. Then explain the situation as you see it when he drinks. Finally, tell him that you deserve better and he too deserves a better life. “

I told her, “you can’t just say it, unless you mean it. You must be prepared to end it if he makes no effort to correct the problem.”

I knew that she loved him and wanted a future with him but these little red flags of doubt kept popping up when she would find herself frequently struggling to get him to his home and safely inside. On those nights he was a different person, one that she did not know.

I said, “It is important that you mean what you say; otherwise you are accepting his drinking problem as part of your future and the future of any children you might have with him.”

It was painful to say and painful for her to hear. But she came to me and I felt a responsibility to speak openly and honestly. My final advice was that he seemed like he was worth her efforts to get to the bottom of the problem and resolve it if at all possible. I gave her the phone number of a friend of mine who is a family therapist and even though they are not yet a family, I felt she could help them get to the root of the problem. Hopefully it all worked out for them and they had a "happily ever after".

As she hugged me and walked away, I heard my son begin to sing another one of my favorite songs and I was happy.