Moving on after My Son’s Death

I still try to find the answer to how to overcome this great loss.

It has been a rough month to recover from this blow to my emotional core. I’ve had my bouts of wrenching sobbing and uncontrollable tears. Yet, I still push forward.

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We have learned very little about my son’s death. It is not ruled a suicide but what is the difference if one dies from a drug overdose?

Nothing about his death has made any sense except for the strange call I received from him on Mother’s Day. It was a hell of a day to say, by the way, Mom, I probably won’t be around much longer. I told him that ending his life was not an option but obviously, he overruled me on that decision. He tried to say goodbye, but I didn’t want to hear such talk. He did try.

How odd that he would die almost 10 years after completing a drug rehab program.

He had tried to change his life and his habits, but the old mistakes and lifestyle kept creeping back into his life like a bad dream. I was warned by the counselors at the rehab that there may come a day when he would be found deceased. I knew they were right.

I tried to detach from him with love. I don’t know if that made me cold and unresponsive to his actions, but I had built a wall to prevent him from filling my life with drama from the world of addiction.

The last ten years had been a struggle, no, it was a battle for him. Additional incidents made his life even harder, but he appeared to be overcoming those struggles. He had a job he loved. Was able to travel and eat out when he wanted and do the things he loved like concerts and monster truck jams.

He had a heart of gold and some of his friends/girlfriends would take advantage of his generosity. I don’t think he ever found true love. Or not the kind of true love that overcomes all obstacles.

I know he tried so hard. Tried to love so much.

For the past three months, he had even sought out professional help for his issues. He took medication that finally allowed him to live a life of responsibility that allowed him to make future plans.

I accept that my son was an addict. I feel no shame for that. I forgive him. I forgive him for leaving me to despair and heartbreak. His struggle has ended along with his emotional pain.

I pray that he is at peace and finally feels the love that he had craved so badly.

We picked up his ashes on Friday. I put them in the bay window so that he can see all his friends as they drive by. When his urn arrives, I will move him to the fireplace mantel. He will still be able to see the street from there and the cars as they drive by.

We had a very small private viewing for family members. Those that were close enough to be called family were also allowed to see him one last time for closure.

I have struggled with the emotional rollercoaster of heartbreak and memories knowing that there will not be any more memories with him except with him in a box or jar.

A month has gone by. I work at finding peace and forgiveness for everyone that had been in his life. It is very difficult to forgive his addict friends, yet I continue to pray that I can find forgiveness for them as well.

I will continue to remain resilient and finish my college degree. I have 7 weeks left of class before it is done. How weird that I started this journey only six years ago. Chris felt proud of what I have accomplished and ashamed of his addiction problem.

I forgive him because he did not know what he was doing to himself and his family.