I woke up this morning to something heartbreaking. Our street was lined with police cars. I knew instantly what happened. Our neighbors have a young adult child (probably 19 or 20) who has an addiction problem. Not long after, the medical examiner’s car showed up. We watched as all the little children in the house were taken out one by one with other relatives (there are a lot of children in that house). Finally, a stretcher with a body bag was removed from the home. It wasn’t surprising. This kid has been heading down a very bad road for a long time. I have intentionally interacted with him as little as possible. I only once spoke to him. It was only to tell him forcefully to leave my premises (he was slurring and asking for money). We weren’t friendly, but I know he was close to his nieces and nephews. I know his parents loved him because he was still there. They still allowed him under their roof despite his addiction and behavioral problems. It’s shaken me. As a mother and a sister, I can’t imagine what the people that loved him are going through right now. I finally decided just to sit with it, and meditate. I hope they find peace.
As I snuggled my son tonight, I hugged him extra hard. We have a tough conversation coming up that I’m not ready to have with him yet. So far every time I’ve tried to verbalize what happened this morning I start crying. I shouldn’t have to tell an 8 year old about a heroin overdose, but if I don’t his friends next door will. Luckily, it’s very cold this week so I doubt he will go out to play. He is in class with one of the kids, and he rides the bus with all four that are of school age. This is not how I imagined our first conversation about drugs coming about. It’s not fair. I don’t want it to happen like this. I don’t want our first conversation to be “drugs can kill.” They can also help (though I don’t believe heroin helps). I’m sure I’ll post more this week as I prepare to have this talk with him.