All I Have is Hope, Part II

Nov 29, 2017, 3:56 PM (Part 2)

Sam chose to spend Thanksgiving with me and my sister's family in the mountains this year. Even though I missed my three other kids who were with their Dad's family, it was my favorite Thanksgiving to date. If I could package and sell the gratitude I felt that day I would be a rich woman. It felt like the Thanksgiving that almost wasn't.

It was great to hang out with sober Sam again. He is engaging and funny and witty and always adds so much laughter to family occasions. He also got honest with me. We talked about many things on the drive. Poor mountain reception is a good thing sometimes. As a teenager, if there is positively no possible way to connect with any other breathing human being on the face of the earth you might as well talk to your mom, right? No matter what the future holds, I will cherish this bonus Thanksgiving forever. I cried a bit on the way up when I realized had it not been for the courage of a complete stranger, things would be so very different right now.

Since Sam's overdose, everything feels different. Sometimes the enormity of the situation shocks me all over again. Different things bring it on. Practicing yoga, looking at old texts and pictures, reading other's heroin stories or hearing of another overdose death on the news. My most vulnerable (also most cathartic) time is walking Luna listening to music. I am the one sobbing as I walk my poorly clipped poodle around the hood.

So many people have reached out to me to see if I have a support system. I appreciate the concern. I have an enormous extended "family" of friends, coworkers, yogis, supervisors, managers, my real family of course, and probably most importantly, my Cornerstone parent tribe. I haven't seen most of them for months now but we keep in contact and I could call any one of those amazing friends anytime of the day or night and they are there for me. They send me random texts to check in, as do many of my friends. I love getting those even if it takes me a bit to respond.

Once again, heroin has risen from the ashes. The beast who refuses to die. Many heroin addicts don't make it past their first overdose like Sam did. Tonight we get the opportunity to get our Christmas tree together another year. I am grateful for us and I am heartbroken for all the families and their loved ones who lost an addict this year and have to get through their first set of holidays without them. Again, I have survivor's guilt of sorts. I try to let it go but it lingers. For all that are saved, so many are lost.

I am grateful for a platform to express life as a heroin addict's mom. Thank you to all who support us in your thoughts and prayers. One day at a time. That is all any of us have. Hold your loved ones close and go for your dreams. Life is short. Where there is life, there is hope. Love you. #nomoreshame