Mother's Heartbreak

A Story of Addiction & Loss

Page 2 of 37

Nine Years Ago

Matt,   Nine years ago you were alive.

Nine years ago we were both anticipating a beautiful new year

Nine years ago I sent you a text telling you that 2015 was going to be the best year ever. 

Nine years ago my heart was full of hopes and dreams. 

Nine years ago we had a conversation sharing our plans for the evening. 

Nine years ago you were spending time with your friends attending a 24 hour NA meeting. 

Nine years ago I stalked your Facebook page checking you were where you were supposed to be.  

Nine years ago I felt both anxiety and anticipation regarding your being strong enough to remain drug free. Strong enough to keep your beautiful future in the forefront of your mind.

Nine years ago we spoke at midnight watching the ball drop together although we were 1000 miles apart. 

Nine years ago I told you how proud I was of all you accomplished and how I looked so forward to seeing you again.  

Nine years ago I had no idea that 3 days into the New Year all my hopes, dreams and aspirations for the future would shatter at my feet. 

Nine years ago I could never have allowed myself to think the future we both dreamed of would never come to be. 

Nine years ago I never knew that 2015 would change the course of my life forever. 

Nine years ago.

Holidays Hurt

Matt, tomorrow is Christmas.  I spent the morning crying my eyes out and hugging the bear I had made out of your sweatshirt.  The grief and pain is still so powerful even after all these years.  I find myself breathless when I let the reality of life sink in soaking through the protective coating I’ve wrapped around my heart. 

The reality that you are really gone continues to hit me hard, taking my breath away.  I go over everything in my head.  Trying to figure out what went wrong.  What could I have done differently to have the outcome I prayed for.  I want to blame me. Then I want to blame you.  You were an adult.  I tell myself you made your choices.  Choices that put your life in danger.  Choices that took you away and left me a broken mess.  

I wonder if you can see what you have done.  How your death has taken my soul and ripped it in two.  I wonder if you thought how your choice to use more just one more time would impact every aspect of my life. 

I’m  struggling through this holiday season.   I can’t even look at posts of intact families.  Families who don’t have an empty chair at their table.  Families smiling for the camera, enjoying their time together.   Hell,  I can’t even get your brother to let me know if he’s  coming for Christmas.  Since your death, he’s pulled away from me.  Every conversation is strained.  I know he’s grieving but he won’t let me in.  He’s so angry and I have become his punching bag.  I feel like I’ve lost both my sons.

Christmas used to be my favorite time of year.   Now every day is a struggle.  I decorated this year using only my favorite things.  The rest I packed up and donated to a recovery home.  It helps my heart to see people who have made it through this disease and are now living life to the fullest.   Oh how I wish that had been you.   On my very dark days I do pretend you are alive, living a great life in Florida.  

I really want to feel the joy of this season.  I got the best news last week.  My CT scans were clear.  After 4 years, I remain free from cancer.  I wanted to call you.  To share this beautiful news with you.  Instead I talk to the sky hoping you will hear me.  

Today I listened to a podcast about a woman who died and met Jesus.  What she described stuck in my mind.  The beauty,  the smells, the colors, the peace.   I pray everyday that you are there living in heaven, healthy and finally at peace.  I pray you are surrounded by light and love and that one day we will be together again celebrating Christmas in Heaven.  

Until then I struggle here on earth.  Struggle to find a bit of joy in a world I never saw coming.   I wish you a Merry Christmas in heaven my beautiful boy.  Until we meet again. 

Love Mom. 

Grief Takes No Holiday

Matt,  today is Thanksgiving,  my 8th without you.  You would think after all this time the weight would be lighter.  The grief would have lessened it’s grip on my heart.  

I woke today with that familiar lump in my throat.  That feeling of choking that has become a part of life since you left.  I wanted to stop and scream that I just can’t do this anymore.   

I have so much to be grateful for.  Today, Mike and Heather are coming over.  It’s the first time since Covid that we will be spending a holiday together.   He’s frying the turkey like he did your last Thanksgiving at home.  If I close my eyes I can see both of you standing together outside by the fryer, your breath floating in the air as you laughed at a private joke 

Oh how I wish you were here.   How I wish I could look out my window and see you both standing side by side.  How I wish you would walk in my door yelling Hey Mom we need some help. 

Today my grief will be mixed with gratefulness.  Missing your presence at the table.  Your smile. Your voice.  Missing your teasing about my cooking.   I will be grateful for the presence of your brother.  Some of his mannerisms are so much like yours.  The tilt of his head.  How he speaks using his hands.   The way he stands around the table guarding the turkey before everyone gets to praise him for his masterpiece.

I never saw a time when you would not be here.  Never ever imagined the emptiness your absence would create.  I will forever long for your presence.  

I pray Thanksgiving in Heaven is beautiful.  That you are surrounded by love, peace and light.  That one day our souls will be reunited and my heart will be full once again  💕

 

A Hollow Halloween

Matt,  tonight is Halloween.  I Thought after all these years I would be ok seeing the kids skipping down the street dressed in a variety of costumes.  

I did ok as the kids came up to the door yelling Trick or Treat.  It was so sweet watching them root through the candy bowl searching for their favorite treats.  Their smiling faces warmed my heart making me laugh as they politely said thank you and waved goodbye.  

Everything was good until I opened the door and two little boys stood on the steps.  Their blond hair sticking out from under their hats.  Two sets of green eyes looking into mine.  Oh God, I felt like I was looking at your children.  I felt like I was given a precious glimpse of what life could have been like had you survived your addiction.  

I stood on the steps with them drinking in every second.  Allowing them to choose as many pieces of candy as their little hands could handle.  I wanted to wrap them up in a hug.  I wanted to close my eyes and picture you standing there with your boys.  I wanted to hear you say Hi Mom.  

I fought back tears as they walked away hand in hand.  
Closing the door I let my tears flow.  I sat and allowed all those memories of you and Mike on Halloween run through my mind. How much you loved to dress up.  How you wolfed down your dinner and ran out the door as soon as darkness hit. 

Those memories of Halloweens so long ago are bittersweet.  They are heartwarming and heartbreaking all wrapped in the complicated waves of grief.  





 

 

My Reflections on Trail of Truth.

I remember being home watching the weather like a hawk scans the sky for prey.  I kept thinking how could the report of a strong nor-easter possibly be true as I sat feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin.  

The next morning I woke to a gray day.  I felt the weather was mimicking my soul as my husband said goodbye at the train station.  I could feel the wind beginning to strengthen as I stood on the platform with my friend who decided she wanted to brave the weather after hearing me try to explain the impact of the memorial ceremony to others when there really are no words that could describe the slap to your heart as you stood amongst the angels.

So here we were the three of us sitting together on the train heading to D.C. to be among those involved in bringing awareness to the pandemic that continues to destroy families and lives.  You see, Nicole lost her husband last year and is now a single mom to her beautiful daughter, Chloe.

As the train sped toward our destination, I could feel my anxiety growing.  Memories flooded my brain of my first trip to D.C. 9 months after losing my son, Matt in 2015.  How naive I was then thinking this epidemic would never continue.  I truly believed that losing 42,000 people in 2015 would be enough for those in power to shut down the Pharmaceutical Companies responsible for the carnage. That lawmakers and doctors would be punished for their part in this terrible tragedy that created a disease of massive proportions.

As we arrived at Union Station I felt a calm beginning to settle my heart.  I felt like I was where I was meant to be.  

Walking into the Yotel was like coming home after a long absence. Hearing my name and being surrounded by other mamas who’s faces were so familiar yet now they were in my space and we shared moments of joy mixed with grief as we wrapped each other up in warm, loving hugs.  

Our eyes all reflecting a similar emotion.  No one wanted to be here, but because our hearts were shattered by loss we knew we had to be here to let the country know our children continue to live through us.

The storm was kind to us on Friday allowing our activities to continue as planned.  First the DOJ rally.  The power of being among so many incredible advocates was palpable.  The energy flowed through the crowd.  Our chants stopped passerby’s who asked what we were doing.  I was proud to tell Matt’s story as they listened and offered condolences and compassion.  Sharing their lives had also been touched by this tragedy.

My friend Jen gave a powerful speech telling her story of Christopher as I listened I was moved to tears.  So many who’s stories shared similarities of hope and heartbreak.  

Friday night Susans vigil was held at Union Square.  Once again we came together as one body of broken people holding on to each other as stories were shared.  I was blessed to share Matt’s story with the crowd.  Candles were glowing in the dark representing the lives of our loved ones whose 

lights we will never allow to burn out.

I could hear the rain and wind before I got out of bed Saturday morning.  Ophelia obviously had no idea who she was dealing with as she pummeled D.C. with all her force.  A group had gathered outside our room accessing what we were up against.  We laughed out loud knowing that we had all walked through hell and survived. 

A group of us gathered for breakfast holding our rain gear and making plans to brave the storm. There was no way we were going to allow this storm to stop us from being among our angels.

I tried to prepare my friend for the impact but I knew from experience there truly are no words.  I watched her walk among the Delaware people searching for her husbands stone.  Tears falling as she held her daughter’s hand looking for Daddy.  Our eyes met and I knew she felt it.  I knew the impact found her soul ripping it apart once again.  The sky opened up as we both searched, her for Walt, me for Matt.  I knew there was no way we were giving up in spite of high winds and heavy rain.  

Finding Matt, seeing his handsome face stopped me in my tracks. I felt like the earth beneath my feet split open.  I prayed for it to swallow me, to take me to a place where grief could never find me.  To give me a reprieve from this excruciating pain that had become my life.  I heard a guttural cry escape from my soul.  I felt arms wrapping around me as another mom heard and came to hold me up.  Never could I have anticipated my response.  The rawness of the grief.  

I knew I was spent. I wanted to run.  Then I saw my friends face and knew she found her husband.  She knew. I knew.  We were both experiencing, living the impact our team had hoped for when forming the Trail of Truth.

Saying goodbye Sunday morning was tough.  I felt surrounded by those who get me.  I felt like we were all kindred spirits finding each other again. 

I still have found no words to describe the feeling when you walk among angels.  As we boarded the train to Delaware my friend leaned over and said you were right.  No words……..💔💔

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