What an idiot Friday, Apr 3 2009

I just have to get this out. I am so heartbroken and outraged right now. I had my 2 grandchildren over to spend the night last night. It’s quite the saga, trust me. I thoroughly enjoyed having them over and we had a grand time, but…

My “son-in-law,” M, called me yesterday asking me if I had wanted to have them over. I had been meaning to have them over but had not done so yet (yes I know, I need to see them more often!) I said that I would like to have them over, and he said fine, but that my granddaughter, K, was out playing and my grandson, J, was sleeping “like a log.” He said he would talk to them and see if they wanted to come over and he’d call me back in about an hour and a half. He called back in about 15 minutes. He said that the kids were actually with their great-grandmother, my mother-in-law, and she would drop them off at my house, and he would come over and bring some things for them to have here. I said that would be fine. I love my ex-husbands mother, and so it was actually terrific! When she got here with the kids it turned out that the kids had been with her since Tuesday, and spent the night at her house both Tuesday and Wednesday nights. M evidently had no idea at all when he called me that his children had not been with him for 2 days. Can you say “drug-binge?”

I was sitting on the couch, with my grandson on my lap, while my granddaughter was playing in the same room on the computer. J said “We want mommy to come home.” We talked about this for a few minutes. K finally turned around and said, “J, you know daddy said you weren’t supposed to talk about that!” Evidently M had told him not to talk about mommy since it made K “so sad,” according to her. I told her it was fine if J talked to me about mommy, and how much he missed her. I miss her too. When J said that, my heart just broke for this little boy who just simply misses his mommy. My heart also broke that their daddy told them not to talk about it anymore. How else are you supposed to get through sadness to the joy and happiness that waits on the other side of it? Nope, I guess they are just supposed to “stuff” their feelings.

Turns out, however, that K really did want to talk about mommy. After J went to bed, she started asking me questions. She wanted to know where mommy died, and we talked a long time about how I knew mommy was dead. She wanted to know how she looked, and asked if she was blue. I told her that mommy was not blue and asked why she thought that. She said daddy had told her that I had told him that C was blue and that was how I knew she was dead. I never, not even once, talked about this subject with M. He NEVER asked me how I knew or what had actually happened the morning that C died. And then he tells his little girl something patently false, and as a “bonus” gave her a terrible mental picture of her mother. He has absolutely zero idea of how to be a parent. It did break my heart, too, that the last time K saw her mother they had an argument. K said that she doesn’t have too many good memories of her mom because they had argued so much. It is true that they argued a lot, but I did try to reassure her that her mother loved her a lot, and that her mother knew that she loved her as well.  A bit later, K found a mothers day card she had made for C sitting on the table next to her bed. She had a huge smile on her face. She slept with me, and we watched Reba in bed. She reached for my hand to hold it while we watched and laughed. Reba really is a fun show to watch.

M evidently also has a new “friend” by name of A. This is not terribly surprising, but it is disappointing and disgusting to me anyway. It’s only been five weeks. He has no sense of decorum or of what is appropriate at all. It does just go to show just how little he really thought of C or of his marriage. She was really just a drug source to him, and someone to take care of the kids and have sex with once in a while. He’s really disgusting to me. I really do not like having to act like I still like him. It’s very hard.

SolaScriptura57

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Right now Tuesday, Mar 31 2009

Just quickly, because it’s late, I’ve been on the phone a lot tonight and I still have to find my tax stuff, I want to discuss mourning at this stage. We are all, C’s family, dealing with many different emotions. Sometimes it’s quite confusing. It’s almost a relief to go to work where I don’t really have time to think about these things. Oh, it intrudes often enough, but I can’t focus on it. I can’t take the time to deal with it or give in to it. We are all right there. Talking to my daughter, S, tonight we talked about being angry. I think we are all getting into a more negative area now. From all I can gather about grief, it’s a stage and it’s normal. However, I think this is also one of the dangerous places where families and friends can be torn apart. We came together so wonderfully, all of us, in the days and weeks following C’s passing. It was truly a good thing. But as we go about putting together this next part of our lives, we all end up in slightly different places, dealing with slightly different emotions, at slightly different times. It is going to be very easy to offend and to be offended by things that others say and do right now. I pray that everyone will be sensitive to this and to try to speak the truth in love. I want us to get through this healthy and strong and with a greater faith in God than any of us had 5 weeks ago. We can. But we can only do this if we give what we are feeling to God and let Him lead us and carry us when we need it. His strength, not our own, is what will ultimately provide us with the healthy outcome we want and need.

SolaScriptura57

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Guilt and Regret Monday, Mar 30 2009

As time passes, I think about a lot of different things. As I posted yesterday, the unlovely, ugly things are coming to the fore. I can honestly say it makes it hard. I would prefer to think about how pretty she was, how her smile was so dazzling, and what a cute and funny little girl she was. But those things are taking a bit of a back seat right now. I try to think of them, but in this process, I think I have to go through the guilt and regret phase. I trust God to walk with me through this, to carry me when I need to be carried, and to give me strength to stand up and talk about how awful all of this is. And, of course, for the future to do His will, whatever it may be. I know that He will use this, and whatever was meant in this for evil, God means it for good. Good will come, because He is good and true. The only reason I am doing as well as I am right now, only four and a half weeks after C’s death, is because I rely on God. Christ is my strength and my foundation. He has given me everything I need, and continues to do so, not just on a daily basis, but on a minute by minute basis. Praise Jesus!

Anyway, on to the yucky stuff. All of us in C’s family are dealing with guilt and regret right now. It’s hard. No one likes to face what was done that shouldn’t have been or not done that should have been. Life’s “shoulda’s” are not fun. And it’s too easy to push them away. We all want to live a guilt and regret free life. But when something like this happens, there is no way to escape guilt and regret. For the sad truth is that there are things I wish I had done or not done. I want to put these out there because I want to warn anyone who may see this that it is possible for the person you love so much to die. You must take action to get them away from drugs and do everything you can to help them out of an abusive relationship. The combination of those two things are what drove my beautiful, sensitive and loving daughter to take drugs, to take them and overdose on them.

So what, specifically do I feel guilt and regret about?

1. I did not try to get her into rehab. As I’ve said before, she did have a need for painkillers because of her neck injury. I honestly thought it would be okay to wait just a few more months until after she had gotten her neck taken care of. I thought there was time. Besides, she was not insured and certainly could not pay for rehab. I couldn’t either. Her father couldn’t. I didn’t know there was county-based rehab services available, so I honestly didn’t even search for them. I wish I had been more pro-active in this, at least in finding out what was available.
2. I didn’t take her addiction more seriously. This one is a serious and deep regret, no, it’s a deep guilt. It’s one reason I started this blog, so I could warn other people that this could happen to them. I thought she could get off the pills again, like she had done the previous summer. I was looking forward to that day, but I never dreamed that there would not be a tomorrow for her to get off the pills. I was blind, willingly blind and naive. That I was naive, there is no doubt. I regret my naivete immensely. I wish I had done more research and even gone to a family support group. That way I could have learned more, and gotten the information I needed to at least try to help her. That I didn’t do this feels terrible. I feel like I really let her down. She was hoping I could help her, and I didn’t do it because I didn’t take the addiction as seriously as I should have.
3. I regret not counting her pills the day before she died. Had I done this I would have discovered the additional pills missing. I don’t know, but there is at the very least the possibility that I would have been able to get them back from her before she took the lethal amount.
4. Although I tried very hard to get her to leave her husband, I deeply regret not being successful. This pulls at my heart and tears me up when I think about it. It’s probably one reason why I haven’t yet posted much about her husband. It still breaks my heart what she was subjected to by that “man.” The truly terrible part about it is that this is the issue that really divided us in the last few years of her life. She really did want her marriage to work. She did not want to be divorced or to be alone. She was so afraid, too, of what he would put her through in any divorce and custody proceedings that I believe it is one reason why she always went back. She was terrified of him on the one hand, but she also loved him. She loved him enough, and wanted her marriage to be a good and successful one, that she always gave him another chance. When he wanted her back again, she went with a hopeful heart that maybe this time things would be different. Of course, they weren’t different. He still continued to abuse her, to torment her and she continued to be his willing victim. To talk with her about these things became very difficult. I desperately wanted her to leave him for good. She didn’t really want this. So this issue came between us making it more difficult for her to talk about what was really going on in her life and in her marriage. It was only when things became unbearable that I would get a call from her, sobbing terribly, and she would tell me what was happening. I had to try to accept her husband for her sake. And that meant often biting my tongue and trying to support her staying with him. I wish I had been more resourceful in finding a way for her to leave him, and to put him behind her.
5. I regret not confronting her husband about his treatment of her. She had asked me to do that several times. I didn’t because I could see that it wouldn’t make any difference to him whatsoever. She said, and in some ways it is true, that M (her husband) respected me and was more willing to listen to me than he is to most people. I don’t know if it would have made much of a difference, or if it would have made things worse for her. But I do regret not making the effort on her behalf.
6. I regret not praying more for her and earlier on about her marriage and her drug use. I did pray, often at times, but not with real consistency. I’m not sure what would have, or could have, been done, but this is something I regret with every ounce of my being. At the very least, God may have given me direction in my prayer time that I simply didn’t make enough time for.
7. I regret not taking more time in the years before she died to just simply enjoy her company and to enjoy being with her and her kids. You all know what this is like. We get so busy in our own little lives that time for others is less of a priority than it should be. I treasure the time I did spend with her. As I said, the last week and a half of her life was mostly pretty good. Most of that time that we spent together was fun. We talked and laughed. I hugged her more than I had been doing (I’m not really a very huggy person, to be honest, but I’m becoming more of one!) I wish I had just simply taken more time to just spend with her. I didn’t know her time was going to be so short. This one makes me cry to think about.
8. This regret is related to the last one. I seriously regret letting her think, for even one moment, that I didn’t love her or care for her as much as I do. C had trouble accepting that people really did love her, care for her and want to be with her. This is partly my fault. No child, no matter how old they are should be questioning their mothers love. I did try. But it is also true that she became so frustrating to be around and to talk to, her problems were so large and overwhelming, that it was often hard to talk to her without becoming frustrated. When you’re frustrated with someone, it’s hard to show them that you love them. I should have made more of an effort, however. It’s so hard to think of her drowning in so much sadness and, yes, self-pity, and she was reaching out, but at the time I just didn’t know how desperate she was. I wish I had. I wish she had really let me in, I wish she had trusted me enough to really tell me how much she needed help. She had told me that it seemed like no one cared for her. I know I told her I did care, I did love her, but in the context of the conversations, I also found it more and more difficult to deal well with her self-pity. Oh I loved her so much. I wish she had really known. I hope she knew that the reason I kept letting her move in here every time she and her husband split up, was because of how much I loved her.

Well, those are my biggest regrets, in list form. I sometimes try to get around them, by excusing them away. Some of that is probably obvious in the explanations about them. I also know that hindsight is 20/20. It’s terribly difficult sometimes to do what someone really needs you to do for them. You don’t always know exactly what that something is. So, sometimes you flounder around hoping you’ll hit on the right thing, the magic thing, that will make things alright. I also know that I can’t spend my life being guilt-ridden about these things. We cannot change the past. We don’t get do-overs. That is why it is so important to be in a close, intimate relationship with Christ. He knows what that right thing to do is.

Anyway, these are only my own personal list of guilts and regrets. Others who were close to C have their own list. I’ve talked about some of them with her sisters, my surviving daughters. I hope that when they read this, it will be a springboard for further conversation about this. I really think that as awful as it is to go through this, handling these things well, meaning talking about them and giving them to Christ and learning what He is teaching us through them, is the key to getting through this to the other side of it in a healthy way. We can all come out of this healthier, and even eventually happier, if we learn from those things we now have such deep regrets about.

I also post this list hoping it will reach others who still have their drug-addicted child, sibling, cousin or friend around and in their lives. I know how frustrating it is. Believe me, I know. I hope you can learn from the mistakes I made with my daughter. And I hope you will do whatever it takes to help them, even if it makes them mad at you. It’s better to have a child angry with you than to mourn them. Believe me, I’d prefer it myself.

In Christ, and always her mom, SolaScriptura57

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Facing Realities Sunday, Mar 29 2009

Reality does tend to intrude. I had a pretty good day today for the most part, but was also feeling a bit down. Maybe blah is more the right word for it. Thing have been rattling around in my mind for several days, however. Things which are less lovely. I had been wondering what to write today, and I guess that reality is the topic of choice.

My daughter died of a drug overdose. While I do not believe it was her intention to die, she died by her own hand, nevertheless. She took the drugs herself. No one forced her to do it. It was her choice and hers alone. Yes, there were factors that lead her to make that decision. But many of these factors were there also by her own choice. She was addicted. She knew it, too. There was a packet for the county drug rehab program in one of the boxes she left here. She had an intake appointment scheduled for about two weeks before her death. She didn’t go. Why? I don’t know. That week is when things between her and her husband blew up (again), and she began moving her things over here. That may have factored in to her decision not to go. The timing was bad for her. I don’t know. She didn’t tell me that she had made an appointment to go into rehab. She did admit to me that she was addicted to the pills, but wanted to wait, and she said her doctor made this point as well, that she needed to wait to get off the pills until after she got her neck taken care of. Frankly, that seemed reasonable to me. That may not be the best word to describe what I thought and I wish I could say I thought differently, but as her mother, I wanted her to be well, and I didn’t think that her being in intense pain from her neck injury was good for her either. But she took the pills, no, she abused the pills she was given. They were for pain relief, yes, but they were also for “fun” and for “escape.” She told me that, too. We talked about it on Monday night before her death.

But here’s the thing. She was also using cocaine. How often I do not know. She claimed it was rare. I would like to believe this, but it’s something I will never know for sure. She was an addict and addicts lie. They lie about a lot of things, especially their addictions. So I’ll never know. I’d like to believe the best about her, especially now that she is gone, but this is a reality that intrudes. She was an addict, and she was a liar about her behavior. Most especially, I think she often lied to herself as well about her addiction. She knew enough to know she needed to lie to try to hide what she was doing. I know she didn’t want to disappoint me and others in her family. I know she was tired of being “the family screw-up” since she told me that herself, and it was her own phrase. I know all this is true. But I’m confronting the reality that she just simply lied to me and I’ll never really know the full truth. Not about her death and not about her life for the three years prior to her death.

I was talking to one of my other daughters about this just  a little while ago. She is angry. Angry at C for doing this to her children. Angry at C for leaving them behind, in what is still a bad situation, as their father is also an addict. I don’t blame her for being angry. I’ve had my moments of it over the past month, but it is anger that hasn’t really hit me yet. Reality has to hit me first, and that is what is going on right now. You see, C did not always abuse drugs. Several years ago she was quite opposed to the abuse of drugs, whether legal or illegal ones. She was living a pretty clean life. She had the “normal” teen involvement with drugs, mostly marijuana, but when she got pregnant with her oldest child, she quit. I used to tell people that K, C’s oldest child, had saved C’s life. The difference in her when K was born, and even before that, was remarkable. She was a different person. When my youngest daughter began to use meth (for a very short time) she was terribly worried and even angry that H would do that. C lived for her children. They gave her a reason and a purpose to live, and she was a good and loving mother. Until about three years ago.

She began to use Percocet when she sprained her ankle. It was a pretty bad sprain and took a LONG time to heal. (I seem to remember that doctors used to tell you to ice it and take Tylenol. NOW they give narcotics prescriptions. Is it any wonder there is such a huge prescription drug problem?) Well, things just took off from there. She got relief from back pain and so continued to take Percocet. Her husband and his sister, then living with them, also had narcotics prescriptions for back problems. Things just went from bad to worse and her life went into a huge downwards spiral. If someone had told her three years ago when she got that first Percocet prescription that taking those pills would lead to her death in three years, I truly believe that she would not have taken the pills. But she trusted the doctors too much. They said she could or should take them and so she did. It didn’t take too long for her to become an addict. And it didn’t take all that long for her to die from the addiction.

One of her friends commented to S that she “didn’t realize just how bad C was ‘f***ing up.” It’s true. None of us really did. I was blind, in part because I wanted to be. I didn’t want to see just how bad things were. But it’s also true that even if I had been more willing to see it, I might not have known anyway. I don’t think this is just providing an excuse for my lack of action. C was very good at hiding what she was doing. Addicts tend to be. Sad, but true. Had she been more open, she might have gotten the help she needed in time. But she didn’t trust us enough to let us see how ugly things had become. She also, sad to say, wanted to continue to play with the drugs. After all, she abused the morphine the very first day she had them. Her husband did too. That pill party they had together, which may have included some cocaine use (we don’t know, the toxicology is not back yet), is what started her dying. Yes, I think she was already dying by the time I got home from work on Monday night. It took until Wednesday morning for her to die, but her death began on Monday.

I’m sorry, I realize I’m babbling a bit. I’m struggling with the facts, facts which I already know, but which I have to face. As I told S yesterday, we cannot really help anyone else until we face the cold, hard truth. C was a drug addict and lied to her family. I really want to remember the lovely, wonderful things about her, but right now the ugly side of her life is intruding. I just pray God will carry this too, and lead me through this time of fresh heartbreak and sadness.

And anger.

Her mom always, SolaScriptura57

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THE Question Saturday, Mar 28 2009

I got “THE” question yesterday. Quite out of the blue, as I knew it would be. For those of you who don’t know what “THE” question is, it is: “How many kids/daughters do you have?”

I had been thinking about how I would answer this question for awhile, almost since the day that C died. I had planned to answer it simply with “Four.” But I didn’t. I answered it “Three.” I immediately regretted it. C is still alive, in heaven, not here where I can see her and talk to her, but alive and well, better than I am, as a matter of fact. Why I said three I don’t know. I don’t want to deny her life, but I also don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable either. Answering “four” could have brought further uncomfortable questions. So I answered “Three.” I hate that I answered “Three” and not “Four.” I gave birth to four children, four daughters. Not three.

It was always fun to answer “four” to that question and see peoples reactions. They usually were a little sorry for my ex-husband with all those females to deal with. It was something of a pride-point with me, too, that I had survived the teenage years of four girls. No, it wasn’t fun, it wasn’t pretty. But I got through it. It also set me apart, just a little bit and only in my own mind, that I had four children, not the standard two. It made me different, a little crazy sometimes and definitely poorer than I would have been otherwise. But I love all my girls. All four of them!

I asked a co-worker who lost a brother how he handled that question. He still includes his brother in his answer. That is what I wanted to do the first time someone asked. It is what I will do next time. I cannot deny her life, and I won’t pretend she never existed. She was lovely and kind. But she was troubled and in over her head with the pills she was taking. Just because they became too much for her to handle doesn’t mean I will deny the 28 years of her existence. I am a little bit ashamed that I did so yesterday.

I have four children. They do not all live close to home, but they are, all four of them, a part of my heart and a part of my life till the day I die.

Her mom, SolaScriptura57

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One month later Thursday, Mar 26 2009

I had wanted to mark the one month anniversary of C’s passing in some significant way, but I really didn’t do anything. I had thought that one month would be pretty hard, but it turns out the night before was worse for me. I’m not really sure why. I think one thing is that the Lord did not want me to dwell on her death in that way. And I am not. God has been really good. He is walking with me through this and continues to be my guide and my comfort. I was thinking about this just a short time ago. He has allowed me to move forward without dwelling or becoming either morbid or bitter. Yes, I have been angry, but that has mostly been about things which occurred prior to her death, and things which lead to her death. It’s still hard, but He has given me what I need, which is to be able to talk about her and to truly mourn, but to still see His guiding hand. I may never know the why’s of this, but I do know that He is the only answer. Job never recieved an answer to why he suffered either, except to know that God is enough. That is why this blog is titled “MyRedeemerLiveth.” No matter what comes my way, no matter if it is directly from God or from Satan, or is the result of my own fleshly sinfulness, He lives and He reigns. He is my God and my Savior in good times and in evil times. His will will not be thwarted. Thank You, Lord, for guiding me and my family through this time of sorrow.

Don’t get me wrong. There are many things I want to do to honor my daughters memory, to try to get some meaning or good out of such a devastating loss. Three weeks ago I was all on fire to do this, but it just got so overwhelming. It was too soon. At that time, I told my sister-in-law that I didn’t want to do anything in C’s memory, what I wanted was to have C back! It just hurt too much to try to do anything. I don’t think I’m quite up to more than this blog right now either. This blog has been a source of healing for me. It has kept me focused, it has helped me honor her memory, but it has also kept me moving forward. I know that nothing that I will do, no outcome that I want will bring her back. That is a sad thought to me. Mommy’s are supposed to be able to kiss boo-boo’s and make everything okay again. Daddy’s are supposed to be able to fix anything. We couldn’t fix this. We can’t fix this hurt. Only God can do that.

My focus right now is to give all this hurt and anger to Him. Only by doing this can any work I do bring real meaning and significance to C’s life and death. It is only His work for me that can last.

SolaScriptura57

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I thought this was good Wednesday, Mar 25 2009

I read this blog post last night as I was doing a search. I thought the insight about grief was excellent.

No More Night

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Wednesday, Mar 25 2009

I thought the words to these Alison Krauss songs, referred to me by my daughter, S, are particularly appropriate.

Away Down the River
lyrics by Alison Krauss

Baby dry your eyes
There’s no need to cry
Cause I’ll see you again
It might be a while
Before you understand

[Chorus:]
I’m just away down the river
A hundred miles or more
Crossing over Jordan
To the other shore
I’ll be standing waiting
With all who’ve gone before
I’m just away down the river
A hundred miles or more

Now the pictures on the wall
Will help you to recall
They’re not there
To make you sad
But to remember
All the good times we had

[Chorus]

When it’s time to leave
You’re gonna feel the mountain breeze
And the snow will fill the stream
And carry you to me

Also, I Give You to His Heart
lyrics by Alison Krauss

The wind is blowing down the quiet river,
a shining road that carries you alone.
Baby boy my love will last forever.
If you’re to live, I must give you up to God.

I know our God will guide, protect and keep you.
Teach you faith and hold you by the heart.
Though your mother’s heart is broken by your leaving,
her Father knows just who he is and who you are.

I wish that life wasn’t always ending up this way,
with Heaven’s love at stake and hell to pay.
But you in God’s loving plan might be the missing part.
You must live.
So I give you to his heart.

The wind is blowing down the silent river,
a shining road that leaves me all alone.
A life for you’s worth losing you forever.
Some day we’ll stand in God’s fair land, forever home.

I wish that life wasn’t always ending up this way,
with Heaven’s love at stake and hell to pay.
But you in God’s loving plan might be the missing part.
You must live.
So I give you to his heart.

I wish that life wasn’t always ending up this way,
with Heaven’s love at stake and hell to pay.
But you in God’s loving plan might be the missing part.
You must live.
So I give you to his heart.

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Good night Wednesday, Mar 25 2009

Good night, C, good night, my darling daughter. It’s been a month, almost to the minute since I helped you to go to bed, gave you your book and a glass of water and heard your last words. “Thanks mom. I love you.”

I love you, too.

I love you, sweet C. Sleep well in Jesus arms. I miss you.

Good night.

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One month ago Wednesday, Mar 25 2009

One month ago, I would have had no idea what I was doing a month before. This month, however, it is burned into my brain. One month ago was C’s last day on earth. I praise God that it was, by and large, a good day. The weather was truly beautiful, a warm day for February. She was, in spite of being slowed down due to the drugs in her system, in a pretty good mood. She was making plans for moving on with her life. She was scared about getting a divorce, being alone, and what the future held, but she also was trying to get herself organized and figure out what she needed to do. The coroners report is due in the next few weeks, and I don’t know what it will say, but I know she truly expected to wake up that Wednesday morning. She was depressed and nervous and scared, but she was also making plans, plans she would never accomplish, but it tells me that she had a slight amount of hope for her future. Not alot, she was not what I would have ever called hopeful, but she was showing glimmers of it dawning in her outlook and attitude in the days before she died. Besides, the book she was reading when she went to bed on the night before she died was a book on how to get organized. You don’t do that if you plan not to wake up. She had spent most of her day on Tuesday, her last full day, working on her planner. She was setting goals and putting in birthdays and appointments she had made. She was trying.

Today is a bit hard. I don’t feel like I’m going to “break down,” but I just feel slightly melancholy. I am wondering how it got to be a month later already. I can’t believe it. Oh how I’d love to go back, go back and make sure she never got into the pills I had hidden from her. To go back and give her many, many hugs, and “I love you’s.” You always think you’re going to have tomorrow to do that. I’m grateful that I had hugged her more in the week and a half that she was here before she died, and I told her I loved her and she said it to me as well. We did those things more than usual in that week and a half. But not as often as I now wish I would have. I know all this is normal. We just simply do not see something like this happening. After all, to be blunt, this is something that always happens to “someone else.” It’s someone else’s child who overdoses. It’s Heath Ledger who dies, not my child.

I just talked to one of my other daughters, S, and she is dealing with today with some difficulty too. She had dreamed about C dying (specifically about my phone call to her telling her that C had passed away) two days before Christmas. She wishes she had done more to try to prevent this. She mentioned an intervention but dropped it. Frankly, one of the reasons we didn’t “try harder” was because we had all seen her take too much before, with nothing terrible happening. As she put it, it was like we, C’s family, had become somewhat desensitized to C’s drug use. She’d take too many pills every now and then, and then have several good weeks where she wasn’t taking too much. We all just thought it would be the same thing this time too. As I’ve mentioned before, I was really waiting for her to get her neck fixed. She had a doctors appointment (with a surgeon) set for sometime in May (it took that long to get the appointment) and so I wanted her to get her neck fixed and THEN get off the pills. I saw that I would need to help her regulate her pill use until then. What I did not realize was just how bad off she was. I will admit to wearing blinders, and yes, I feel very guilty about it.

Maybe I shouldn’t feel guilty, but for me, I need to really look at what happened so I can learn from it, and warn others. I can tell you why I acted as I did, and a month ago, it all seemed so reasonable and so loving. No parent wants their child to be in such pain as her neck was causing her. It seemed cruel to me to try to deny her at least some painkillers. I wanted to deal with her addiction, with getting her completely OFF the pills AFTER her neck got fixed. It seemed to be the right order. It probably is the right order. But the drug she got on the Monday before her death was so much more powerful than what she had been taking before. Just enough more powerful. And she abused them, too. I don’t excuse this at all. I feel that it was my blindness, well-intentioned though it was, that gave her enough opportunity to die from her addiction. While I don’t feel responsible for her death, I do feel that I can, and should, warn others. Don’t allow yourself to be as blind as I was.

SolaScriptura57

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