From Lost to Love & Hope

It all started when my son’s father lost his dad, David. He lost his battle with lung cancer 6 weeks after being diagnosed. The day they put a port in him, he was given a dose of morphine and I watched his heart meter slowly but so fast go silent. My son Kyle, 16-years-old at the time, was devastated, I had to peel him off of his grandfather, he didn’t want to let him go. My husband couldn’t deal with this. The oxymorphine which hospice carelessly left at the home, made its way into my husbands pocket and into his body causing the numbness of grief to go away.

I had no idea that a storm was brewing, I had no idea he was taking them… for years.

I finally caught on to the addiction – still so unaware of the monster that it really created – about 2 years ago. When I demanded it to stop, the events that followed are too painful to write. It ultimately led to me moving out of the family home and into a condo. I could not be in the home and witness the deterioration of my husband, it broke my heart. We share two beautiful, smart, kind, well-mannered sons. We couldn’t have asked for better kids.

After I moved out, Kyle couldn’t deal with his father anymore either. His father tried to get him to move in with me, but Kyle was determined to be on his own. He was 20 years old and all I could do was support his decisions. I, of course, took groceries and his laundry and cleaned his place up often. I never saw the first sign of anything going on with my son. He wasn’t innocent, I found plenty of evidence of marijuana.

I didn’t – how could I?

As his mother I should have gotten onto him about it, I didn’t. I felt that he worked 6 days a week, attended UGA part time and never asked for anything. How could I possibly tell him to not smoke marijuana in his own home? It wasn’t like he was pawning his things or slacking in school and not making it to work, he did everything a 20-year-old young man should be doing. He met the wrong crowd and trusted them. On my birthday in 2017, August 22nd, while he was at my birthday dinner, his friends robbed him of his beloved gun collection. He’d invested 10-15k in this collection, built some, he worked hard for those guns. His father immediately grabbed his stuff up & moved him back home…

Kyle had a real peek into the cold-hearted world and it broke his heart. The pill problem seemed to be escalating with my husband and my focus was on him. I just wanted all of it to stop, I wanted my family back. I wanted my family back so bad, I cried every night.

Christmas 2017, I noticed something wrong with Kyle. I didn’t know what it was but something was just not right. I would ask his father but he was bitter about our situation, words said and fingers pointed…

What could I do?

All I could do was pray and do what I could I do for Kyle. In the meantime, Gavin, our younger son, had given us no trouble at all so I was focused on Kyle.

My parents came to my door on a Sunday morning at 7:30 am on January 21, 2018. They told me Gavin had found Kyle in the bathroom around6:45 am, not alive. I was destroyed, crushed, confused and so grief stricken. I cannot even begin to explain how very broken I was and still am…

Kyle was given pure fentanyl and it took his life!

My husband, of course, was handing this loss a whole lot better than I was as I was not numb, I felt every ache you can imagine and some you never want to imagine. I was angry at him, so angry… it got me nowhere.

I decided to love him and support him

For Kyle, Gavin and me, as well as for himself my husband has been clean for 60 days today, I am proud of him, so proud! I researched and I asked professionals, addicts, etc. and the addiction is real, it’s so real. It’s so hard for addicts to quit opiates, even with will power.

My husband is currently in a terrible state of grief, as we all are, but it’s just really sinking in both of his losses, it’s heartbreaking! 

There’s hope but the price we had to pay to gain hope of recovery was way to costly considering what we lost. We lost something so precious and so meaningful, so irreplaceable, we lost our son. If my husband did not stop I would probably of lost him, too. 

The pill epidemic is terrible, it’s ripping families apart and leaving them with broken hearts and souls. There is hope of recovery, I pray to God every night for people dealing with their loved one’s addiction, it’s so hard to watch, however, you can have one right under your nose and not even be aware of it. It’s tragic.

So to all who worry about if your child is coming back home because you know when they leave they are going to use – my heart simply breaks for you. I pray for you. I pray it doesn’t take a loss for them to get to the point of wanting help!

Blessings – A broken hearted mother💔

Our Guest Writer

My name is Jené McLaughlin, I’m 40 years old, currently write for a local magazine, have two sons, Kyle & Gavin. Kyle is my angel, who is forever 20. Gavin is 18, graduates from High School in 2019 and starts his internship with Lockheed this spring, 2019. I am currently struggling with complicated grief and anxiety, I am constantly trying to find a way to cope and writing has been my best release, I have found thus far. Thank you for reading my story.

Guest Post by Jené McLaughlin, as part of the series ‘Share Your Story’.
Find out here how you can share your story.

Image: Handlettering and artwork by Nathalie Himmelrich

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