EDWARD STEPHEN BARIL

“And devout men carried Stephen to his burial, and made great lamentation over him.” (Acts 8:2).

For my sister Dianne and me, March 25 is a holiday of sorts, and a solemn holiday, at that.  Today would have been our brother’s 52nd birthday.  “Eddie” (his formal name was Edward Stephen Baril) died in the summer of 1983 at the age of 27.  Bluntly, a relative of ours sort of took issue with me a year ago because I stated on the blog that he died “of natural causes”.  Well, he wasn’t shot or stabbed.  He didn’t die in a plane crash or in a car accident.  He didn’t die in a fire.  He collapsed in a bathroom at his place of employment, went into a coma, and died eight days later.  I think an objective group of 12 middle-aged suburban people would agree that technically the way he died fits the definition of “natural causes”.  However, Eddie DID abuse alcohol, and POSSIBLY other drugs (although that is not known for sure) so it can be deduced that substance abuse probably had a significant amount to do with his death.

Within our extended family I think it’s kind of sad that Eddie is best remembered for his death (much the way John F. Kennedy is to younger generations).  There was so much more to Eddie than that.  The loss of Eddie was felt at Amy’s wedding reception this past weekend.  Cathy Mondor, the woman who’d been Eddie’s fiancé, was present with her “significant other”.  She took a lot of pictures.  She came SO close to being “Amy’s aunt”.  It’s sad.

Eddie was a year and a half younger than me.  He did not look like me.  I look very French.  When I went to Montreal in the early 1990s, people would just come up to me and start speaking French.  I’ve got SUCH a French look, they assumed I was a fellow Quebecois!  Eddie looked like our Scottish MacDonald and MacPhee relatives.  We did not look alike, at all   My sister has characteristics of both of us, although she tends to have more of Eddie’s features than mine.  Not only did Eddie not look like me, but he was nothing like me.  I’m a public speaker.  Eddie was a man of few words with a very dry sense of humor.  I tend to be very “unhandy”.  Eddie was an outstanding mechanic.  He also had quite an artistic flair, and even liked to cook. As teenagers in the early 1970s, my sister and I were part of what religious historians call the “Jesus revolution” or the “Jesus generation”- a “mini-revival” in which hundreds of thousands of teenagers became born-again Christians between roughly 1967 and 1973.  Dianne and I really were NOT such “goodie/goodies”.  Had we not “gotten saved” I hate to think of what each of us would have done.  But in our parents eyes, our “being religious” tended to make him look really bad.  Eddie started drinking (secretly) at age 12.  By age 16, he was a full-blown alcoholic.  I’m sure you may wonder how someone can have a drinking problem right under your nose and you can’t even see it.  I know by experience how “possible” it is.  Around 16, Eddie began getting into accidents, and various troubles with the law, all accompanied by drinking.  My parents tried and tried to turn Eddie into a good, wholesome, responsible, obedient, dutiful, Catholic boy.  It didn’t work.  Those were hard years.

I will never forget the day Eddie moved out of the house in Canton.  It was January 1, 1980.  There was yelling and swearing between Eddie and my father like you’d see in the most intense of an “R”-rated movie.  Eddie stormed out and never lived there again.  Some months later a law enforcement officer called looking for him.  I called Eddie and told him about it, but I assured Eddie I would never tell my parents about it, and I never did.  I’m glad Eddie was in my wedding on August 28, 1982.  He was dead less than a year later.

Eddie was in a lot of emotional pain.  I loved my parents, and in many ways they were good parents, BUT... my father was very intense and authoritarian and expected his kids to be perfect.  He expected teenagers to think and act like very moral and conservative 40-year-olds.  He expected hard work and achievement.  He was a very hard guy to please.  My mother was very emotional and a devout Catholic.  She expected her kids to be dutiful, obedient, and wonderful Catholics.  All three of us let them down, big time!  In my case, (believe it or not) I’ve struggled with depression and low self esteem off and on throughout my life.  It’s ONLY my “personal relationship with Jesus Christ” that has kept me sane and given me a sense of accomplishment.  In Eddie’s case, he drank.  

I was not close to Eddie.  Lest you think that made his death easy for me, it DIDN’T.  Six months after Eddie’s  death, I went through the darkest depression of my entire life.  There was such GRIEF and what they call “survivor’s guilt”...the whole thing of “why am I alive and why is he dead?”.  I haven’t spoken a lot about my sister in this piece because she can be a very private person and may not want a lot to be said about her, but she took Eddie’s death harder than I did and has always been grief-stricken by the loss of her brother.  

So, I’m letting you know that today is Edward Stephen Baril’s birthday.  I don’t want him to be forgotten.  

Incidentally, Eddie LOVED Ford automobiles (including Mercury and Lincoln) and Eddie LOVED The Beatles.  I think Ford cars and Beatle music were his favorite things in life.  So if you see a Ford today or hear a Beatles’ song today...think of Eddie.