Whiskey and Grief in Carl's Bar

The title could be a new country music song, but let me share that my cousin Carl has a speakeasy in his basement and loves to experiment with whiskey cocktails.

(my cousin in his basement speakeasy)

While in the hospital with my dad, Carl was there every day with us. We hadn't spent any time together since everything happened, but we have been in contact once a week since. I wanted to go to a sporting event in Morgantown and see his house. We started the night off by attending a WVU basketball game with his son and two of his son's friends. Despite West Virginia University (WVU) getting out to a 20-4 lead against Texas Tech, they ended up losing the game. We got back to Carl's place and I asked him for a drink. I sit in his basement bar on a bar stool and he shares he will make me a drink out of his "Schmidt's Spirits" booklet. The drink he made me was a Paper Plane, a drink he and his wife discovered at a restaurant in Lewisburg, West Virginia.

(the story of the discovering the paper plane, the book that Carl keeps his most intimate recipes, and the paper plane recipe).

Carl has quite the collection of spirits. Him and I share a love of whiskey, and we both share a favorite whiskey of Angel's Envy. I was browsing his bar and came across a bottle of a whiskey called Entrapment. Carl has a vast knowledge of every bottle he owns. Entrapment, made in the same distillery as Crown Royal Canadian Whiskey, this branch of the factory is known as Orphan Barrel Whiskey Distilling Company, the idea of the whiskey is "discovering long forgotten barrels of rare and delicious whiskey that have been aged a number of years and distilling the remaining barrels into bottles for sale". Entrapment is the product of being forgotten. Aged 25 years, almost all of my life, this whiskey has aromas of vanilla, toffee, and toasted oak. The downside to a bottle of Entrapment, is once it is gone, it is gone forever. The supply to make entrapment is whatever is left in a storehouse barrel. Orphan Barrel comes out with a new version of their product yearly.

By the end of our night of drinking cocktails, I had about 8 drinks. I used my one water to one drink ratio throughout the evening, but at one time, I think I had four drinks on the bar sitting in front of me. Carl just continued to pour drinks and talk about the beverages.

While we were both sipping on our beverages, Carl and I got to talking about how we both have been handling the loss of my father and his uncle Jim. Carl shared to me that the loss of my dad, will better prepare him for the emotions he is going to feel when one of his parents passes. He shared this feeling he had on the second day since my dad's passing where he had been really upset and heard my dad speak to him. He shared "I hear your dad's voice and he said to me: you need to be what I was for this family, now that I am gone". Carl said to me "I have no idea what that meant, but I said 'okay Uncle Jim, I will do that'". I said to Carl "Switzerland, he wants you to continue to be neutral in your decision making when it comes to our family, because that is what he was all of his life for us". Even in moments where my dad could have picked one side over the other, he stayed neutral. He never wanted to play favorites and he just wanted mutual understanding from everyone.

Carl shared he was fully prepared to have my dad go to Columbus, Ohio for a potential surgery with two of the doctors he had worked with in Columbus when he worked at the James medical center. He also shared how his knowledge of medicine in the hospital and during the diagnostic process really was both a blessing and a curse for him. He knew on the scans in the hospital just how bad the tumor was. He broke down and cried when he saw them. Carl is a surgical oncologist at West Virginia University's Medical Center. We talked about the diagnostic process and the doctor my dad was meeting with. We talked about how my dad knew how serious this condition was and how he was happy with the life he had lived. We listened to a voicemail of my dad's that he left for Carl when he wanted Carl to know what was happening with his health. It was the classic Jim Boughner voicemail. "Hey Carl, this is Jim Boughner calling, your uncle, no rush on calling me back, just wanted to know your thoughts on something, anyways, my number is 412-555-5555, thanks, bye". A couple things made me laugh when I heard that voicemail: 1. This was the most important thing he could have been calling about, but shared "no rush in getting back to me". 2. Carl has my dad's number, so not sure why he left it for him in this voicemail. 3. identifying himself as Jim Boughner, your uncle. I think Carl knows who that voice belongs to and didn't need him to identify himself.

My dad, when he found out about the tumor, called his sister after talking to my mother. My aunt Susan shared with him, he needed to call Carl because if he didn't tell Carl, Carl would be very upset with him. My dad called Carl which led to that voicemail.

We talked about Family Matters, not the show with Urkel, but things we have learned about our family since my father passed away. Things that my dad did to continue to be Switzerland (neutral) when he was alive. Why he kept literally everything that was ever sent to him. The negative letters and the positive letters, he kept them all. We talked family decision making skills, the conversations we have had with others, and how this whole process has been interesting for all of us. The next death in our family before my father's that we predicted, would not have been my father, in the great life trajectory predictions. We would not have bet on that. We cannot control the outcomes of life around us. We can only control our reactions to things that happen around us. We conversed with his wife Keri when she came in from her night out with her daughter's high school talent show. Keri lost her father at a young age and she shared her moments of grief and how she was impacted. We talked about a grief support group they attended (Carl and Keri) and how talking about grief is important, but there comes a time when outsiders want us to move on and just no longer be sad. For grief, that isn't realistic. Grief comes and goes, some times it is unbearable, and sometimes it is just there.

To quote Ronny Radke of Falling in Reverse. There is a song called Popular Monster (the song itself was relatable to my anger before I was diagnosed with ADHD). Radke says in an opening line of the song "everybody tries to tell me that I’m goin' through a phase, I don't know if it's a phase, I just want to feel okay". I believe Radke was trying to share that outsiders away from us feel that depression, grief, anxiety, and other mental illnesses are just a phase. We crave trying to feel okay. Grief is not a phase, it's a never ending part of life after someone passes away and someday I will feel better, but never one hundred percent okay.

At the end of our drinking escapade, we opened a bottle of Wigle Whiskey that my dad gifted to Carl a few years ago, that Carl shared he was unlikely to open, because of the memories of my dad. We toasted to my dad to thank him for the life that he lived and how we all miss him, Keri, Carl, and I. We talked grief, while drinking whiskey, in Carl's basement bar.

Personal reflection:

Every time my mom meets with someone we are close to for the first time since my dad's passing. She tells the story of the alcohol in my dad's hospital room at Allegheny General Hospital when he was hospitalized after his fall. I have heard this story about 100 different times. My mom by Thursday, November 16, had already had quite a long week and very little sleep. She asked a friend to bring her some wine. The friend obliged and brought her a bottle of wine and the tiny bottles of booze one can find in an airport gift shop or at a gas station. My mom opened the bottle with her friends and they had a drink together. Not thinking anything of it at the time, she left the bottle in a bag and covered it with blankets and left the hospital for the night. The following day she was given a code of conduct form to sign by a security officer at the hospital because having alcohol on hospital property is not allowed. The moral in this story is "finish the bottle" or "take the bottle home with you". Every time my mother has the opportunity to share this story she does. In the discussion I had with Carl about our grief process, he mentioned how people are going to get sick and tired of hearing about our sadness. I understand that, because after hearing this story of the alcohol confiscated out of my dad's hospital room for the 100th time, I too am sick of hearing about it.

Grief needs talked about. Our feelings need to be spread to those who are willing to listen, or in this case read. I have talked to so many people since my dad passed about their experiences with grieving their own parents or how they are dealing with my dad's passing. They all expressed that grief needs talked about. Share the memories even if they get shared 100 times. My mom shared a sentiment with my from her grief group she began to attend that someone told her "you had a relationship with your husband on earth, you will still have that relationship, it is just different now". I feel that. I had a great relationship with my dad when he was alive, I still have a relationship with him now, but that relationship is different. There are so many things I want to share from my dad's life that over time, we will get there both through this and also through the memoir i’m writing, because it turns out that I might be a decent writer. Writing is an outlet for me. Our loved ones are WITH us.

(Carl and I at a WVU basketball game, creating new family memories together).

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