Most of us may remember where we were the day that Whitney Houston died. I was sitting in a movie theater watching “Red Tails,” a movie celebrating the accomplishments of the Tuskegee Airmen.
There was a sad irony in that moment. I was paying tribute to African-Americans who soared to great heights in history, literally, while an African-American woman, who soared to great heights in her career, had fallen through the cracks of addiction, which may have contributed to her death. I felt no judgment toward Whitney – only great pain – pain, in particular, for a mother and daughter who loved her so much. You see, when someone you love faces addiction, it is a disease that pierces the heart of the whole family.
I have lived that pain personally. My father was an alcoholic and I have sad memories of the drunkenness, discord and dysfunction that permeated our home. I remember how stressed my mother was, trying to raise six children largely alone, as dad lost jobs and disappeared on drunken binges. He thirsted uncontrollably for his enemy – the bottle that he thought was his friend. My mom had no choice but to flee from the drama of alcoholism by eventually divorcing dad.
I recall being summoned to his death bed when I was in my late teens. Doctors told us dad had cirrhosis of the liver and the damage, from years of heavy drinking, would soon take his life. It was a watershed moment for him. With death knocking on his door, he did something none of us ever thought possible. He decided that he would never take another drink for the rest of his life. I am proud to say… he didn’t.
We were blessed with another 20-plus years to get to know our father “sober,” as a good man who was once controlled by a disease. My dad, Donnie Cain, died in 2003 at the age of 68. His liver had taken such a beating in the days that he drank heavily that, ultimately, the complications of his liver cirrhosis took him from us. Today, I thank God for the extra years he gave us to see Dad in a whole new light, not just as an addict.
In a close-knit family, we still celebrate dad. At Thanksgiving, we gather a few dozen nieces and nephews of all ages to play in an annual “Donnie Cain Turkey Bowl Classic,” a flag football game in his honor. Dad was a Worldwide Air Force halfback who had a passion for football. The kids get “Donnie Cain” trading cards as a loving souvenir of their grandfather.
Today, I pray for families whose hearts are broken when loved ones struggle with addictions. As Community Affairs Director at WTHR Channel 13, I want to direct you to the “Community Page” of wthr.com for resources for people with addictions. Please understand that they have a disease. In spite of their brokenness, they deserve to be loved.
You can e-mail comments to Angela Cain at acain@wthr.com.
