Mother's Heartbreak

A Story of Addiction & Loss

Searching For Peace Among the Grief

September 25, 2026 /

Matt,  it’s been a while since I’ve written.   I’ve just felt so lost lately.   The summer has passed and I missed spending time at the beach our once favorite place.  It’s been a really tough summer for me physically.   The last bouts of radiation really did a number on my back.  Spasms and pain so bad it literally stopped me in my tracts.  So many days I was forced to take pain killers just to function.  On those days my mind drifted to you and what you went through right in front of my eyes. 

I feel like I am you.  Constantly in pain and constantly trying to get away from it.  My anxiety like yours has made some days worse as my mind goes to those dark places.  

Everyday is a fine balancing act.  Deciding what do I treat and what do I just deal with.  What’s worse today has become the question I ask myself daily.  Is the anxiety going to be the beast today or the relentless pain.  Which beast do I try to beat back and which beast do I let run rampant over my mind. 

Then I have a flashback of you walking like an old man and I feel my tears building.  I wish I understood then what I do now.  You were just looking for peace from your pain.  They say you never understand what someone else is living through until you live it too.   Well, Matt I get it.  There are days where I just want the pain to stop.  Days I just want my old body back before the cancer hit and slowly destroyed my ability to just be.  I took my health for granted.  Even as I watched you and argued over your pill use I never thought I could one day be in your shoes.  

 How I wish I could turn back the clock for both of us. To those carefree days when we were both happy and healthy.  The days of running on the beach with the dogs.  The days of laughter and sunset boat rides.  Days we both laughed until we cried.   God I miss what I foolishly thought would last forever.   I still can’t believe you’re not here.  You are the first person I want to talk to when the pain hits.  You are the only one who can understand how life can go from perfect to so damn hard in the blink of an eye.  I just wish I could see you for a minute.  I’d tell you how sorry I am for how you suffered from your injury.  I’d tell you how I wish I understood more and pushed you to do things less.  

So now your life has become mine.  I’m terrified of becoming addicted.  I’m terrified of what the future might hold for me.  I’m also terrified of living my life in constant pain unable to do and be what I did and who I was before.  

I pray you have found your peace.  That you are whole and healthy living on the most beautiful beach your eyes have ever seen.  It’s the one way to survive how life has become with you gone and me walking in your shoes.  So now I continue my balancing act choosing which demon to defeat on a daily basis as I also pray for peace.  

I also pray one day you will be waiting for me when I leave this earth.  I pray to see your beautiful face and hear your voice say hey Mom I’ll race you to the sea.  Forever in my heart.  

Happy Heavenly Birthday

July 29, 2026 /

Matt tomorrow would have been your 49th birthday. I should be planning on a beach trip to spend the day with you. We would be eating crabs and probably drinking beer, but rather than planning to celebrate I’m planning on feeding the homeless in your honor.

Tomorrow Ray and I will head down to Georgetown to sponsor “A Hug From Matt Day.” This event will take place at The Shepherds Office, an amazing house run by Jim Martin. Everyday he feeds the hungry and homeless and provides comfort and support for those in need.

This is our 4th year honoring your birthday by giving back to the community so many have forgotten. This is the community you taught me about when you were here. People whose families gave up on them and thought rock bottom was the answer. Your compassion for that man on the corner shivering in a threadbare coat has stayed in my heart. You told me to stop the car on that dark corner. I remember holding my breath as you got out of the car and approached him like he was a long lost friend.

I sat quietly as you took off your warm coat and handed it to him. He looked shocked and then smiled as if he just won the lottery. We gave him the food we had bought for dinner, as you returned to the car I’ll never forget your words. “Mom, I have a warm home and plenty of clothes, that’s all he has.” I hugged you and cried all the way home.

That is your legacy my beautiful boy. A legacy of compassion and love for those who have so little. After you died so many called me or came to the house. Strangers telling me stories of your generous kindness. How you saved them from their demons and showed them they mattered.

You have made me a better person. No one is a stranger. Everyone deserves a chance in life. So tomorrow we will feed all those who have become my Matt’s. We will give out backpacks full of food and toiletries to all in need. We will share your spirit of kindness and compassion and continue your legacy of love.

Matt my heart breaks for how life turned out for us. That we were robbed of so many years and memories that could have been made. So many adventures we missed. Know you live on in my heart and will never be forgotten.

Happy Heavenly Birthday my beautiful boy.
#homelesslivesmatter #griefjourney.

A Touch Of Matt Forever.

July 15, 2026 /

Matt,  your birthday is in 15 days.  You should be turning 49 but you will forever be 37.  Instead of planning your party, I’m planning an outreach in your honor to feed the homeless.  That was one lesson you taught me when you were alive.  You always cared about others especially those like you who suffered from substance use.  
You always told me stories of people you knew whose families gave up on them and didn’t care if they had food, shelter or clothing.  You considered yourself blessed that I could never not help you as you tried to battle your disease. 

When you first passed I was given a beautiful chain that held your fingerprint along with a bit of your ashes.  Inscribed on one side was a touch of Matt forever.  I remember the first time I held it. Tears running down my face. I ran my finger over your fingerprint.  It was surreal that this was all I had left of you, my beautiful boy. 
It made me think of all the lives you touched when you were here.  The people who wrote me letters telling how after they relapsed you sat with them all night encouraging them with your words letting them know that this was just a blip in the road and not the end of their journey.  You had such a big heart and cared so deeply for your friends.  I always wished you cared as much about yourself perhaps you would still be here.

So now my mission is to continue to have people feel your touch. 
By caring for and feeding those the world forgot.  You left a mark on my heart as I see you in every one of them.  A beautiful person with a horrible disease. 

As long as I live people will continue to be touched by your kindness and compassion as you remain in my heart until we meet again.  Love forever Mom.

 

An Unfinished Life

May 7, 2026 /

Matt, Sunday is Mother’s Day and I can feel the weight of my grief seeping in.   I’m trying to stay busy, but the weather is mimicking my heart and it’s too chilly to do anything outdoors. 

Being retired doesn’t help.  The time I wish I had while I was working now seems to be an endless void of activity.   There’s only so much that needs to be done at the house giving me time to remember and regret decisions made that led us to where we are today.   You are gone and I’m left with this profound sadness.

I remember you as a child.  I’ll be hit with a memory of us on the beach or playing miniature golf.  I see you so clearly in my mind.  I want to reach out and hold you in my arms and pray to rewind time.  I want to be in charge again.  I want to keep you safe.  

I always wonder how things would be today.  If we would still have the close relationship we had.  I think about how amazing it would be to have you here married with children.   To have you and Mike both here with your families sharing life’s events as brothers do.  

You have missed so much since you’ve been gone.  Some good, some bad.  I was diagnosed with cancer and have had 2 surgeries and radiation.  It’s been a scary experience and there were so many days I just wanted to talk to you and have you tell me it would all be ok.  I wanted to just feel your hug and hear your voice.  

Madison married her best friend, Jake.  She was a beautiful bride.  I couldn’t contain my tears as I saw your picture on the memorial table.  I had to take a breath and think of anything but you to survive that moment.  Seeing Mike give her away my thoughts again drifted to you and how you should have been sitting with your wife at your brother’s  table.  

Erin and Dan had their first child.  A precious boy they named Milo.   You are an Uncle and didn’t have the chance to celebrate the new arrival in our family.  

Matt,  your life was so unfinished.  You’ve missed out on so many wonderful things.  So much of life you never got to experience.  We will never know what you could have done in the eleven years you’ve been gone.   It fills me with sadness thinking that you are forever missing out on so many wonderful things happening in our lives.  I will always cherish the memories we made and forever grieve the memories we will never have.  

Until we meet again, you are forever in my thoughts and heart.  

 

He Is Risen

April 5, 2026 /

 Matt, today is Easter.  We went to church as the sun was shining and walked out into the rain.   I guess the weather is mimicking my soul as I’m silently crying inside thinking of all the Easter’s you have missed. 

I remember how much you loved Easter not for going to church but for the baskets and hunts where you would fill your bag with candy as you ran around with the kids seeking out every egg you could find.  I remember the chocolate ring around your mouth as you ran up to me so proud of your stash.  

Even as an adult you still loved it when I made you your own basket filled with your childhood favorite candy.  You would look at me and smile telling me you’re too old for an Easter basket as you picked through the candy and popped one into your mouth.  

When you moved home we would attend church together.   I loved the fact that you had faith and it made me so happy to share our thoughts about Jesus and Heaven.   Now that you are gone I wonder if you have found that peace promised to us in the Bible.  I wonder if you’re healed and healthy.  I wonder if you know the love of your Heavenly Father and if you’re surrounded by beauty, peace, love and joy.  

Somedays are torture as my faith is challenged, as my grief wraps me up in despair and the doubt slowly creeps in.   I wonder if this is all there really is and when you’re gone you’re just gone.  That is just too much to bear.  That is when the panic of never seeing you again starts to squeeze my heart and take my breath away.  Those moments are when I have to cling to my faith, cry out to Jesus and pray that the Bible is full of truth.  That Jesus did exist and rise to Heaven.  I have to believe that today Easter Sunday He has risen and you are with him living in paradise.  I have to believe that one day we will be together again never to be separated.  That there will be no more weeping or grief.  That when my time comes, yours will be the first face I see and we will once again walk by the sea we both love surrounded by all the pups we have ever loved.  Jesus will be walking beside us laughing as we catch up on all you have missed.  

Oh Matt, I pray you have found your peace.  That you know the love of your Heavenly Father and you are surrounded by peace and joy.  I can’t imagine the celebration of Easter in Heaven I can only dream of what you are living because He has risen.  


 

« Older posts
September 2026
M T W T F S S
 123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
282930  

© 2026 Mother's Heartbreak

Theme by Anders Noren — Up ↑