It’s a saying that many know. “You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar.” If I were to give a short explanation, I would say it means “don’t be a jerk,” but if I were to dissect it, I would say that if you need something, you are more likely to get what you need from someone if you are nice about it. If you are sour about it, a jerk, then you are much less likely to get what you are asking for. The reason I am bringing this up is because of my sister.

Before she had seizures from alcohol withdrawal and almost died, she was not a perfect role model. She was never able to hold a job down for long, her relationships were with a series of drug users and alcoholics and always volatile and explosive. She had lost custody of both of her children and never took the first step of admitting that she had a problem with drugs or alcohol. She wasn’t neccesarily violent but could easily become violent when drunk. 12 years older than me, she wasn’t around much when I was growing up, and when she was around, I learned how to keep anything I thought could be valuable hidden away. Before her medical episode, she had gotten drunk with my mother, and they had an argument. I’m not sure of the specifics, but Mom ended up falling into the Christmas tree and ended up with a broken hip, with a restraining order on my sister as the result. As Mom would tell us, it wasn’t because my sister was violent with her, but because whenever Mom would kick her out, the cops would find her and pick her up, bringing her back to Mom’s. She insisted the restraining order was to keep the cops from bringing her back. We all knew that Mom was never able to say no to any of her children, so this was her way of trying to practice tough love.

That was when my sister ended up seizing in a park after not being able to procure alcohol. If she was in a more isolated place, she would not have survived, but people saw her and called 911, who rushed her to the hospital. She had a friend who had the same thing happen to her, only in a private home. By the time her friend was found, it was too late. They did rush her to the hospital and had her hooked up to all kinds of machines. She hadn’t made it, and when I went to see my sister in the hospital, hooked up to the same machines, I knew it was serious. She had lost a lot of oxygen and wasn’t herself when they took her out of the medically induced coma. She hasn’t been quite herself since.

After her hospital stay, she was given some sort of government assistance. I’m not sure how it came about, who helped her, or why she is no longer receiving it. I do remember conversations from long ago where I had heard that she was supposed to pay a small amount (think, $3 a month) for her apartment, but had neglected to do so and was therefore evicted. I’m not sure of the truth of that or the amount, but somehow, she ended up back at my mother’s house. A modified version of who she was before, one that now would get stuck repeating words as though stuck on a broken record, one that could get so wrapped up in something she was watching that she thought it was real, one that is not able to hide her hatred and anger despite her level of sobriety. She is still not sober and will 100% drink if given the opportunity, and when she has had her “fire water,” there is no talking to her. You cannot understand a word she says, so conversation is impossible. She will become angry and even growl as a beast would for no reason at all or at the slightest discomfort of her made-up reality. My mother, the saint, took her back in with the agreement that my sister would feed the dogs and help her go food shopping. She would take the garbage out and to the curb at the end of the week. There were times when she would gather up her pennies and dimes and get herself a pint of Majorska, stumble around the house, fall down a lot and call my mother a cunt if she dare suggest she go lay down or something. But with Mom alive, there was always the threat of getting kicked out. Mom wasn’t a tough warden, but it was warden-esque nonetheless.

Now, my mom has passed away. We are all going to be selling the house. My sister understands that and is not arguing with it, but she still doesn’t understand what is really going on around her. She tells me that she wants to get a one bedroom cottage for her and the boys (2 dogs and a cat). I mentioned Adult Services, and she flipped out on me. She knows that if she gets housed with help from the state, she isn’t going to be able to keep the animals. I live in my van, so she is not coming to live with me. My two other sisters are married and live with their husbands and children and would not be able to take her in to care for her. My brother is also living in the house still and will most likely be moving in with his girlfriend out of state before this is all over. They don’t get along at all, so living with him is completely out of the question. The only help that I can give her is to walk her through the process of applying for state help. Her other choice is living on the street. She also doesn’t realize that probate takes a while. Even if the house were sold tomorrow, we will need to wait 9 months before the funds can be distributed amongst the heirs. She is going to need a place to live before she gets her portion of the sale, and she doesn’t seem to realize that.

I have been helping my sister, as best as she will allow me, bringing her to the county office to get food stamps and bringing in dog and cat food. She is unmanageable and argumentative. She is ready to fight, and her hatred and anger are always there just under the surface, waiting for the moment she can unleash them. Her niceties are forced and feel faked to the person who is receiving them. She is demanding and acts entitled, which really makes me NOT want to help her. She will cry and say that no one gives a f*&k about her, but is ready to lash out and call you crude names for the smallest perceived slight. Meanwhile, if she was pleasant and kind and a happier person to be around, she would get more help. We had plans to go to the lawyers office to get a letter of renunciation signed and notarized, but they were laid wasted when I showed up at 9 am, and she was already plastered, and angry. She came out to my car and I said that we weren’t going to go to the lawyer today (I wasn’t going to bring her ANYWHERE in that state) and she proceeded to list out all the things she needed. Dog food, cat food, and food for her. Then she admitted that she had stolen $10 from her friend and got herself a pint, had finished it up that morning. When she asked me to buy her cigarettes, I asked what happened to the rest of the $10. She growled at me , literally “GRRRR” growled at me and then said that she was saving the rest of it for more “fire water.” I was able to trick her into the house, going inside with her and then quickly making my exit, getting into my van and driving away as quick as I could, not even buckling my seat belt or putting on the wipers until I was safely away and around the corner.

I bought the dogs and cat food today, sneaking it into the house early and leaving it where it would be seen. I don’t mind helping out, but I would much prefer to help someone who is grateful and not demanding. I won’t let the dogs starve, but if she thinks buying alcohol is more important than her cigarettes, that’s on her. I have bought her cigarettes, but on one of her good days. I do preach unconditional love, and this sent me into a spiral of thought and consideration. Deep thinking. Here I was, preaching about unconditional love being unconditional, and then thinking that if my sister was NICER, I would help her more. That would be putting a condition on it. I mean… I love her, I do. I just can’t handle her, honestly. If she were totally different from my old sister, if the medical episode turned her 180 degrees, then I would lament for my old sister while caring for the person she’d become. But the fact of the matter is that she wasn’t all that great of a sister to start with. I will help her stay alive as far as she will allow me, but she is certainly walking around with vinegar instead of honey, and I can see how that could make a person’s life a lot harder.