My son had a disease

  Today I digress.  If my son had cancer you would pray for him and feel bad for him and see him through sympathetic eyes.  But when you find out his disease was addiction I see in your eyes condemnation.  I watch you shun him from church, social events and make him feel even less than he is already feeling.  Alcoholism and addiction is a disease.  It is a genetic disease that works a lot like an allergic reaction.  When you or I drink or use, which I don't, we have a drink or we take a pain pill from the doctor.  That is it.  But when the addict does it his/her body does not process it the same way.  It causes the body to go into overdrive and want/need more.  It isn't about will power or bad character or bad parenting.  It would be like me asking the diabetic to please just concentrate and produce insulin.  It can't be done.  No one knows if they have this genetic disease until they use.  It is hereditary and is not a character flaw.
  My father was an alcoholic.  No,  he didn't get drunk every day but when he drank he couldn't stop at one. He could go weeks or months without drinking but when he did drink there was no stopping until he passed out.  Why do I feel the need to say but he was a wonderful man?  Because society sees alcoholism as a character flaw.  My dad and Jacob were so much alike.  My dad would literally give you the shirt off his back.  He was generous with money, time and unconditional love.  He was a people person.  He never met a stranger and loved and lived big.  He is where I get my love for helping other people.  It didn't matter if we knew them or not if he saw a need he would help and he would do it without others knowing.  He didn't want the credit.
  From the time they were little my children knew of their poppa's disease because I wanted them to know it was hereditary and I wanted them to be aware it could have been passed down.  The first time my son drank he was 16.  He had asked his cousin to buy him a bottle of alcohol.  He wanted to celebrate and act "grown up".  I don't blame my nephew.  He was young and wanted to be the cool older cousin.  Also if he didn't do it someone else would have.  But he was 16 and spending the night at Bubba's house.  I got a call in the middle of the night from Cathy that something was wrong with Jacob. She said he was fine one minute and the next minute he was drunk.  Drunk?   Imagine my shock.  Imagine my humiliation.  Imagine my worry?  Bart went to get him and apologize to Cathy for this happening at their house.  When he brought him home I met them in the driveway.  I was going to give Jacob my two cents' worth.  But I knew immediately something more was wrong.  Bart told me he downed the whole bottle by himself.  I looked at him and could tell we couldn't not just let him sleep this off.  His eyes were rolling back in his head, he was limp and his breathing was shallow.  We rushed him to the ER. His blood alcohol level was three times the legal limit.  He had alcohol poisoning.
  I knew then that Jacob had inherited the disease, the genetic flaw.  Did it start that night?  No, he was born with this cancer, this disease.  It had just lain dormant until that first drink.  I knew.  I knew the road would be hard but I would fight until there was no breath left in his body I would fight.