I’m that mom. The one none of us ever thought we’d be. My 27-year-old son died of an accidental drug overdose in July 2024. My heart and my world shattered that day.

​

I’ve weathered all the insensitive questions and platitudes that started with “at least”. No, I didn’t see it coming. No, this was not the call I had dreaded for years. I was shocked. My son had a job, a home, friends and a long-term relationship and he still died from drugs. I’ve felt the distance, the judgement and the uncomfortableness of those around me. I learned about coroner’s, funeral homes, burials and so many other things that further shocked my already overloaded nervous system. I’ve navigated complicated family structures to have a funeral and a burial. I’ve supported my surviving son in his shock and grief. I’ve dealt with the never-ending paperwork and administrative tasks. I’ve watched my large family struggle with this traumatic loss. The ripple effect is huge and I was not equipped to handle this pain. I became a zombie, just existing, not really caring about anything.

​

There are so many of us, affected by this type of loss. While intensely grieving for our lost children, we face stigma, shame and judgement. Not from everyone, but from some. As if, somehow our loss is less than, that our children “asked for it”. My heart breaks every single day for the loss of my son, and all the future losses and things he will miss out on.  I still cannot believe this is real and think about calling him all the time. There are no words to describe the devastation and pain of losing a child. We carry on with our lives, but the loss and isolation is felt everyday. Everything becomes a trigger. Everything becomes hard.

​

I was referred to Hospice. I didn’t know what they could do for me. I thought Hospice was to support loved ones of people dying of lengthy illnesses. I didn’t know. I’m so grateful for the support I have received from Hospice. I don’t know where I would be today if it wasn’t for them. I have been able to talk about the parts that others are uncomfortable with. I’ve had my grief experiences normalized, instead of feeling like I’m going crazy. I’ve received support with setting healthy boundaries and taking better care of myself. I have received powerful Reiki sessions that are healing without talking. There is a library of resource material to borrow, a walking group, children’s groups and more. Most of all, I’ve received compassion and this is priceless to a grieving mother.

​

Our world has become a place where so many are seeking to escape their pain. It’s overwhelming to me and so very sad. Every person has a mom, like me, that constantly replays their child’s life, to relive the memories, and to look for where they went wrong. There IS no us and them. Everyone has been touched by pain and death. We are not taught how to deal with this. And we think that we should follow outdated stages and timelines of grief. This is not true and not helpful. Grief is not something to get over, but something that we learn to carry. Hospice helps.

​

Hospice is such an important and valuable resource to our community. It is truly a gift to have the ability to lean on them in our darkest times. Hospice has had to adapt too and they are adding programs and supporting more people like me, than ever. Please support them in the ways that you can.  By donating, volunteering, shopping at the Hospice Thrift Store, attending fundraisers, holding a private fundraiser, donating items to their wish list.