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If drinking doesn’t kill me (your memory will)

a song written by R. Beresford Y H Sanders and sung by the living legend of country music, george jonesentitled, If drinking doesn’t kill me (your memory will)It has a very different meaning to me today.

In my case, this song was left wide open to interpret the meaning in any way the listener wanted. In George Jones case, it was rumored that he lived the song in full color. If his drinking would not kill him, the memory that would kill him would be in reference to his wife, at that time, the late, great First Lady of Country Music, Tammy Wynette. The song was most likely intended to represent the painful and self-destructive ways a broken relationship or divorce can take on a person unable to handle the disappointment of a failed relationship.

On a more serious note, my interpretation of this song has a more deadly impact than divorce. It means eternal sorrow for the permanent loss of my soulmate, my spouse, my wife, and my once very happy life.

Let me share with you the lyrics of this song, to better understand my story:

If drinking doesn’t kill me (your memory will)

The bars are all closed.

it’s four in the morning

must have closed them all

for the way i am

I put my head on the wheel

And the horn starts to sound

the whole neighborhood knows

That I’m home drunk again

Chorus:

And if drinking don’t kill me

Your memory will be

I can’t take much more

the way i feel

With the blood of my body

I could start my own yet

And if drinking don’t kill me

Your memory will be

These old bones move slow

But so sure of his steps

As I stumble on the ground

And land lightly

Sir, it’s been ten bottles

Since I tried to forget her

But the memory still lingers

Lying here on the ground

Chorus:

And if drinking don’t kill me

Your memory will be

I can’t take much more

the way i feel

With the blood of my body

I could start my own yet

But if drinking doesn’t kill me

Your memory will be…

THE END

Almost six years have passed since the horrible disease of cancer claimed the life of my dear wife, bobbie. He beat her so badly that she could no longer think clearly and had no control over some of her bodily functions. She fought against the merciless demon to the end. But like some evil crusades, sometimes they win.

He had always been a beer drinker. I am not in denial of that. I am an alcoholic. However, my illness was practically in remission, thanks to my wife, bobbie. She hated people who drank irresponsibly. And with her attitude and beliefs, I tried not to let her down. Throughout our marriage, I failed many times, but for the most part, my drinking was under control.

I didn’t like to drink at home, so I drank in bars and lounges. That meant I would have to drive or have a convenient designated driver with me at all times. This was not a practical thought. Being an alcoholic, who thinks to practice? He really wasn’t a regular boss anywhere. I was an irregular boss who needed to jump from one establishment to another. I would get bored of drinking in one place. This is what would get me in trouble with the law: drinking and driving.

after bobbie passed away in 2001, I was a lost soul. I was in pain and I didn’t want to feel this kind of grief pain. He was alone now, and he hated it. Without bobbie, wanted to die. My drinking came out full force again. This groundhog saw her shadow. And it meant more than six weeks of winter. It meant two and a half years of pure hell: drinking. I was able to keep my job by some capricious miracle, or maybe bobbie He was my guiding angel. I do believe in angels. I was a mess. My self-esteem didn’t really matter anymore. He would drink one day and be very sick for four. This is where my progression from alcoholism took me. I would be seriously ill in bed every weekend after a folder. I wouldn’t answer the phone or the doorbell, even if it rang.

I fell off the bottom. Bottoms out. I was cited for a DUI. So I drank more. I didn’t stop drinking until two and a half months later. by believing in God , my higher power, I gave up my weakness. I got sober. I complied with the penalties and obligations that the law imposed on me and I carried out my plan of sobriety for life. For once in my life, I got the gorilla off my back. And what a weight it had carried on me. I’ve been sober ever since.

I like it george jones, I stopped drinking before he left me. Goal by bobbie the memory lives on. Like the song, it may be the memory of her that kills me. i pray to God It won’t be the drink that will kill me. If my life ends up sober, I’d rather die sober and have by bobbie memory draws me in.

I want by bobbie memory to live, but not necessarily kill me. If that means living in pain, so be it. God knows… I miss her terribly. I have wonderful and happy memories. Memories can’t really kill you if you live your life sober. Sobriety is a safe harbor. Memories can somehow prevent you from living if you don’t get on with your life.

If someone says that life gets easier with time after the death of a loved one, it hasn’t really happened to them. I mean that’s not necessarily true. Everyone grieves differently. Human nature tells us to comfort the bereaved. So what else can be said other than “give it time, time will heal your pain”.

I guess it’s true that I feed my pain. bobbie He is a constant presence in my life. I hear another cliche used often, “you have to get on with your life.” What if I don’t want to go ahead? My front yard has a memorial garden in loving memory of my wife. My computer screen has by bobbie photo there. I created a website in honor of bobbie and for the benefit of cancer research. I put music that bobbie appreciated. I look at photos and read the cards and letters we have given each other. I surround myself with by bobbie regards. Will I ever stop reliving her memory? Probably never. Will I ever move on? Now that, I don’t know. I tried to be in a relationship with a girlfriend who moved in with me two years later bobbie transmitted. It didn’t work. There were many reasons why it was not a successful courtship. She would prefer not to go there.

I know in my heart, that bobbie I wouldn’t want to see myself this way. He would like to see me happy and move on. I remember her telling me many times after my mom and aunt passed away that she shouldn’t make a shrine out of her memories. At the time, I thought that she was being cold when she said that. But she was right, she was probably building a shrine to preserve her memories. I didn’t see anything wrong with that.

The pain of memories fades with time, if you wish. The only time the pain eases is when I write my feelings into a story. It is the best therapy for me that I have discovered. I guess that means if I keep writing stories about my memories and feelings that I have for Bobbie, I’ll be fine. So I guess if the drink doesn’t kill me, his memory will. And I’m saying this in a positive way. Thank you, Jorgefor singing that song.

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