Tears and Laughter: If we become like angels, she’ll make a pretty one

In a week when the world lost George Michael, Carrie Fisher, and Debbie Reynolds, Wilcox County lost several long-time residents too, including Chrissy Gaston. The news came out from River Bluff like rising water. It rippled out in waves. One neighbor called. Then I called another, who called yet another who also lives in River Bluff.  She said it was true, that the sheriff’s department and other authorities had been there earlier.  She said it had happened before Christmas, and that he had just stayed there with her, waiting on someone to come.

Initial reports from the Progressive Era soon followed, verifying that on New Year’s Eve morning, long-time boyfriend, Steve Stacey, had called 911. Her body had been there for days, and he was taken into custody for questioning. He had recently been released after a stint in prison for physically abusing her, again. He was why she was paralyzed from the waist down.

River Bluff is just that, a community built on a bluff overlooking the Alabama River. Through inheritance, Chrissy owned a good portion of it. Once it was well-maintained and beautiful, once it was thriving, not unlike Chrissy herself, once upon a time.

I met Chrissy shortly after moving to Wilcox County just over 20 years ago. She was fit and strong. There was intention in every step she took. She was confident and pretty. She had long brown curls that tumbled down her back. Southern hospitality had been steeped into her all of her life. She was nice. She was genuinely open and friendly. She was sweet, as we tend to say around here.

Though 10 years my senior, she was expecting her son at the same time I was expecting a second daughter. We would see each other every few weeks at the Piggly Wiggly. She shared many common life parallels and friendships throughout the area. She had classmates who liked her and loved ones who cared. One of her friends from years ago commented with a picture of a younger, beautiful Chrissy – “No one could hold a candle.”

I wasn’t close enough to know when her drug issues started. It escalated into such a problem that everyone knew. Addiction is a disease, but it is also a thief. It robbed her of everything she had. She lost her assets, her land, her pride, her boundaries, her confidence, her beauty, the ability to choose wisely for herself, and ultimately the ability to take care of herself.

She loved her son Wesley. He is a young man now, and he will likely read this. I remember seeing Chrissy out in town one day when he was a little boy. She was preparing for his birthday, getting wrapping paper and candles. She was happy and excited, just hoping to make him happy and excited. She loved him. She just lost her fight with substance abuse.

Autopsy results may find that drugs did not have anything to do with her cause of death at the age of 55. But those of us who knew her know that ultimately, they were a prelude.

This sad loss is being played out all over our country. Not just in cities, but on the outskirts of tiny little country Alabama towns. Drugs are fueling domestic violence and taking lives every day. People like Chrissy, like the old Chrissy, to whom no one could hold a candle.

I think she would have been touched by how many of us shared her story with warm thoughts and memories. We shared it…because there was nothing more we could do.

Amanda Walker is a columnist with The West Alabama Watchman, Al.com, The Thomasville Times, and The Wilcox Progressive Era. For more information, visit her on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AmandaWalker.Columnist.