What’s in a month?

Most of us realize by now that life can change in an instant. Likely by now someone you know has had a medical event that changes their life as a diagnosis was read, or an accident forever limited their freedom. Maybe that is your story or perhaps your life has had other struggles but have yet to experience these. I type with no judgement, just a thought about this one month in 1989.

This picture was taken a couple of days after my 14th birthday. I am the blonde Bugle Boy there in the red shorts. Up until this photo my family lived together, most recently in California.

I don’t remember much about these years. I remember the vest I am wearing. My Grandma and Grandpa were living in Chula Vista, and on one visit they took us into Tijuana, she bought me the vest there.

I should probably clarify “living together”, at best we were coexisting in survival mode. The years in between those photos, year 8 and 14 got a little dark for the Irwins. My father struggled with alcohol, drugs, and anger. My mother struggled with my father. My sister was removed from the home for a while for her protection, and my younger brother once dropped a red hot penny on my arm, his excuse was “dad did it to me”.

I remember that during these years my father wore this thick leather belt and some large buckle. Whenever he wanted to instill fear he would fold the belt, hold both ends and make it snap loudly. Whenever he wanted to instill discipline he would use the belt, flinching was not tolerated.

After a few years things got better but mostly because his addictions got worse and would disappear for long stretches. My mother would get up early and deliver newspapers, then go clean for others all day. It was pretty common for me not to see either of them for days at a time.

I do have a couple memories of my father during this time, two of which are him overdosing and being rushed to the hospital, one is his attempt to explain to my brother and I how he was cursed. His father died at 38, he would die at 38, also, we were probably cursed as well.

This picture was taken a few days after my 14th birthday.

Following this photograph, my parents officially split. My brother, mother and I loaded into a utility van stuffed with all we owned and headed East back to Indiana. My sister, who had just found out that she was pregnant, would move in with her boyfriend. My father turned 38 and took his own life.