Broken

We are sure the malt did it because she went into labor the next day.  I rushed to the hospital and was met by her mother who was very excited to welcome her first grandchild.  Wendy squeezed my hands hard as the epidural was skillfully administered into her back.  I nearly fainted and she still teases me about it to this day.  She was brave and scared and elated all at the same time.

Taylor took his time to be born.  And he arrived perfect and beautiful that September day.  We all fell in love.

Over the years, Wendy and I both grew into motherhood and found that each of our children were so different and amazing in their own way.  We both admit that our first born children made us mothers and for that we have a special place in our hearts.

Fast forward 26+ years.  At noon on Tuesday, May 29, 2018, I received a call from Wendy.  Both of our parents are aging and I was sure she was calling to tell me her father was ill or her mother had fallen.  Instead, through controlled sobs and shock, she said, “Lisa, I have news.  Taylor died of an overdose over the weekend.”  We cried together briefly then she said she would talk to me once she had more information.

I was left in complete disbelief and overwhelming grief for my friend and her loss.  We didn’t talk again until late that night.  We spent nearly an hour on the phone sobbing and talking and sharing in grief.  I’ve never heard that kind of broken in a mother before—at least not one who is so close to me.  I felt helpless to serve her in her pain.

Wendy shared with me that she called and left messages on his answering machine just in case he was still alive and this was all just a mistake.  The next day she told me, “He never called back.  He’s really dead.”  The grief wave overwhelmed her as she came to terms with the reality of Taylor’s death.

As she somewhat regained herself, she started trying to put the pieces together.  Taylor was not known to ever use hard drugs.  His weight was always good when they saw him and he was very clean cut.  He did not fit the stereotype of a junkie.  Wendy remembered seeing a prescription for Adderall and talking to her son about how dangerous that medication can be.  He told his mom he wanted to get off of it and she counseled him to work with his provider.

Taylor turned 26 in September 2017 and fell off of his parents’ insurance.  It’s at this time Wendy believes he turned to street drugs—meth and black tar heroin—to replace the prescription Adderall.  Taylor smoked it so she never noticed track marks on his body.  She also didn’t witness him being “twitchy” as she would have expected.  She’s still trying to figure out the details of what happened.  We’ve talked at length about the fact that she may never know many of the answers to her questions.

As Wendy prepares for Taylor’s funeral—choosing a burial plot, a casket, clothing and scripture—I am struck by how often mothers are prematurely burying their children as the result of our drug epidemic.  I am moved by her strength and fragility and that she now shares this experience with too many other parents.

I’m also stunned by how helpless I feel to be the right kind of support.  I reached out to another contact of mine, Mary Cucarola, who lost her 26 year old son to a drug overdose in 2014.  Mary gave me the following advice:

• Just be there for her without trying to “fix” her or the situation—tell her you will be there for her no matter what
• She is going to be broken and it will be hard for you to see, but you must recognize it and accept her exactly where she is
• Don’t tell her time heals all wounds
• Don’t say that you can’t imagine how hard it must be—that will only make her feel worse
• Don’t tell her it was God’s plan
• Don’t probe for details—she will talk to you when she is ready
• Just be there to cry with her and let her know how much you love her and her son
• Talk about her son—speak his name—good memories will come up and mothers love to talk about their kids even when they are gone
• Her grief might make you uncomfortable, but that’s okay

Although I’m sharing a very personal story, there is a broader application.  As a community, we must support the parents who are broken and grieving their children lost to addiction.  We must avoid judgment and just be with them.  Together we are better.

If you’d like to learn more about Mary and her journey please go to www.codysfreshstart.org.