Mother's Heartbreak

A Story of Addiction & Loss

Tag: grief and how it affects your life (Page 1 of 3)

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.  

 

Grief…..

February 28, 2026 /

That are days when it just sneaks in. When you begin to feel its weight wrapping around your heart. When you feel that all familiar tightness in your throat and the cloak of heaviness wraps itself around your body and refuses to let go.

You try to understand what is happening. When you woke you felt ok. Then as the hours passed and a memory played in your mind your body reacted and remembered.

Grief is like an unexpected visitor. Like hearing that knock at your door when no one is supposed to be knocking. It doesn’t matter if you open your door, she seeps into the crevices and finds her way in.

You try to get away. To keep her at arms length. You didn’t plan on her visit, on your heart to feel like it’s being strangled and your breath to feel labored. You woke to a sunny day with beautiful blue skies but grief doesn’t care about the weather when she strikes. Grief is relentless and commanding.

Grief doesn’t count the years, she doesn’t care about the length of time that has passed. Grief has no time limit and she knows her power never lessens once she’s wrapped herself around your heart.

Grief never forgets where you live. She knows how to find you. A song, a memory, a glance at a photo. The sound of a hawk, or visit from a raven she knows your triggers and uses them well.

You try to keep busy. You clean, do laundry, walk the dog and all the while she holds on like a lost child refusing to let you out of her sight. She digs deeper into your soul until you are nothing but a mass of tears. You are drowning as the waves come with unexpected force. Pulling you into that abyss of darkness. Regret swallowing you as you struggle to remain afloat.

You finally give up and let grief have her way. Understanding that this fight will never be over. Some days she stays on the horizon but she never forgets that you loved a son who is now forever gone and your heart always has a place for her to exist…….

Grief has found me today as I remember my beautiful boy…….Grief 

 

Holidays Hurt

December 11, 2024 /

 



Matt,   Christmas is in 14 days and I feel like I’m trudging through quicksand.   Going through the motions while shaking inside.  

Once again the Hallmark Christmas movies are playing daily portraying the perfect family and of course the perfect holiday season. 

No one talks about the real life reality that not everyone is looking forward to the celebration, the parties, noise and all the hoopla that seems to be everywhere.  You can’t  go anywhere without hearing holiday music not even the grocery store.

This year seems to be hitting especially hard.  I keep wishing I could turn back time, knowing how little time we had left I would have bought you a plane ticket making sure you were here surrounded by family.  I would have never let you go back to Florida.  We would have figured out a plan but every time I talked to you all I heard was how much you loved being warm and by the sea.  Little did I know that would be our last time sharing Christmas conversation even if it was only by phone  

I look back thinking of all the things I would have done differently.  It’s like torture.  Hindsight is a horrible thing.  It all becomes so clear after the fact, but remains so blurry in the thick of things.

I wonder what Christmas is like in Heaven.   Are you surrounded by peace and joy.  Is it beautiful?   Have you been reunited with family members?  Can you see how hard it is for me?   

One thing I know for sure is I will miss you forever.   Your smile on Christmas morning as you opened your gifts.  Hearing your laughter intermingled with your brothers.   Watching your pleasure as you gave your pups their toys.  Hearing your voice saying Merry Christmas Mom love you.  

This year I will hold you in my heart especially tight allowing those memories to sustain me as I struggle through another Christmas without you my beautiful boy….

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Can of Beef A Roni and So Much More

July 25, 2023 /

Matt,

Never in a million years did I ever think I would find myself falling apart in the pasta aisle of my local grocery store after seeing a can of Beef A Roni. The gut wrenching, hit my heart hard, kind of pain left me holding onto my cart telling myself to breathe. Tears running down my face like a hose stuck in the on position with no hope of being turned off. Oh God, I think, how am I ever going to survive the rest of my life if can’t even make it through the grocery store without a major meltdown. Seeing that can and feeling those feelings has become a part of my new life. The life I never saw coming or signed up for.

Beef A Roni was my youngest son, Matt’s favorite food. I would stock up at the ten for $10 sale and hurry home to stuff his weekly care package with all his favorite foods. Sending them off with a piece of my heart to the half way house he lived in a thousand miles away from home. A can of Beef A Roni, a connection to my son who is no more.

Then there is the scent of Phoenix. This was his smell. I can still hear his voice, “Hey Mom, can you pick me up my deodorant, I’m running low”. I’ve found myself in this same store walking to the deodorant aisle and finding that familiar blue can. I remove the lid and spray a tiny bit. Closing my eyes taking a deep breath I let my mind drift back to happier times. This is what my life has become. Finding pieces of my son in everyday places trying to keep our connection alive.

I once felt that being the mother of a son suffering from addiction was the worst thing that ever happened to my life. That constant feeling of helplessness and anxiety ruled my mind. I compared his addiction to being trapped on a very fast, very high roller coaster with many twists and turns. Never knowing what each day would bring, what was coming or how some days would end.

Mothers of addicts learn to live with the crazy unpredictability that goes hand in hand with the disease of addiction. We learn to expect the unexpected and we relish the thought of a possible period of recovery. Matts addiction became mine as I held onto the roller coaster for dear life. Praying for things to somehow calm down and allow us both a little piece of normal. I’ve since learned that being the mother of an addict who suffered an accidental overdose is waking up and finding the nightmare you feared the most has now become your reality.

Be careful what you pray for they say. I prayed for peace, I prayed for quiet, I prayed for his addiction to go away. My prayers have been answered but never in the way I imagined. I now struggle to survive in this all too quiet, empty new world. I long for the days of chaos. Riding the uncertainty on the roller coaster known as addiction now feels like a walk in the park compared to being the one left behind.

Learning to navigate through my grief is a daily process. I’m now the lone rider on a different coaster. This one mimics the other but now the ups and downs belong solely to me. There are days I wake up, shed my tears, pray for strength and somehow get through. There are days the darkness overrides my heart and I crawl through my brokenness as if it is surrounded by shards of glass. Each piercing my heart with knifelike accuracy.

For now I take it one day at a time. I pray that someday that can of Beefaroni or the scent of Phoenix will warm my heart not break it. Reminding me of the connection between a mother and her son that neither time nor space can break. For now I pray for understanding and strength as I continue to put one foot in front of the other attempting to navigate my new unchartered life without my son.

I know I will never return to the person I once was. Going back to that person is not an option. She vanished when my son died. Gone with his last breath. My grief path is my own. It’s rocky and full of broken pieces of a life that used to be. I tread lightly on days I can. I crawl through the glass on days when the pain kills and I question my survival. My grief has no finish line. It’s one day, one breath, one scream at a time. My grief is the best I can do. Navigating this path is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do. One thing I know for sure is I’m not ok. I will never be ok. And for me that just has to be ok…….

Life Is A Trigger

June 3, 2022 /

Matt,  As if May wasn’t already tough enough going through another Mother’s Day without you, then getting my CT Scan done and waiting for the results that would either have me dancing for joy or crying from despair, a mass shooting occurred at a grade school killing 19 children and 2 teachers.  

As I watched it unfold I could feel the grief wrapping itself around my heart and soul.  I sat sobbing watching the parents begging police officers to go and save their children.  Their desperate pleas fell on deaf ears as those members of the police force stood around ignoring their cries doing nothing to help those defenseless children from being slaughtered. 

Then it hit.  My own grief exploded as I remembered how I was once that parent.  Screaming at the medical community to do something to save you.  Screaming at both the insurance industry and treatment facilities to act now before it was too late.  

All those buried emotions came flooding into my brain as I felt myself breaking apart knowing that those parents would hear those words that would shatter their souls.  Your child is dead. And I was triggered.  

I sat there feeling helpless.  I wanted to reach out and wrap those sobbing parents in my arms never letting them go.  I wanted to rush to their aid knowing how the world they knew just this morning had shifted off its axis and was now spinning out of control.  

The loss of a child is beyond describing.  It’s life altering.  Losing your child throws you into a different universe. The pain is palpable and unending.  Age does not matter.  How they died doesn’t matter.  It’s the fact that they are gone forever and we are left behind to navigate a world that is so unfamiliar we are completely lost. 

Now these parents will go through the rest of their lives with only memories to sustain them.  Just as I have done.  These parents will never see the faces or hear the voices of their beautiful children just as I have not seen your face or heard your voice for so long. They will cry everyday for all that was lost and for all that could have been.  Just as I have. 

I sadly know what is ahead for these parents. Years of what ifs and why’s.  Years of blaming themselves for something as simple as sending their child to school. Years of wondering what their child would have been like had they lived.  Would they have gone to college, gotten married.  They will miss so many milestones that nothing in life can replace.  There will always be a large hole in the tapestry of their lives that nothing can repair. 

I still blame myself for sending you to Florida thinking if you were home I could have saved you. I still wonder what life would feel like had you lived. I wonder if I would have danced at your wedding and rocked your baby in my arms. 

Life after child loss is filled with indescribable pain.  It’s walking through life feeling as if you’ve lost your mind and really don’t care if you find it again.  It’s watching another parent learning their child is dead and reliving the death of your child over and over again.  

Life is a trigger with no safe place to hide. 💔💔

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