Remembering Alex- The "O" in Joy

On March 22, 2012, my family was vacationing in Florida. Well, my daughter wasn’t with us—we were not on the best of terms.  It was my husband, my son, his girlfriend and myself. It was our last day in Florida, when I got a call from my daughter, who was in tears. “Alex died!!! Alex died!”  Her longtime friend, only 21 years old had passed from an accidental overdose.

Let’s go back about 15 years. My daughter had met Alex when she was in grade school. He was a cousin of her best girlfriends. He was a dark haired boy with the biggest brown eyes. He was such a funny kid with a personality that could light up a room.  He hammed it up with parents and was always a favorite of mine. He was hysterical. He was the middle child of 3 kids and his parents are just as hilarious. They were a fun, kind, hard working family that ran the gamut of traveling baseball and sports with their children. They were raising their kids in a suburb in Southwest Missouri, where the town relished sports and the American dream. The town still relishes sports and the American dream. For some though, the American dream has been tarnished now.

Alex was boisterous and happy and adventurous. I guess you could say that he became too adventurous. As he got older, he began to indulge in alcohol and then pills. One time he drank so much that he was hospitalized with severe alcohol poisoning.  It almost cost him his life. I visited him in the hospital and his mom and dad and grandparents were by his side. He was not awake to talk to me---but his mom said that he was so lucky to be alive and that he had done so much damage to his liver that he should not drink again or it could kill him. He dodged a bullet. His life was spared. He made it.

Alex graduated from high school. He continued to party and continued to be the life of the party. Everyone loved Alex. Unfortunately, he started using more pills and his pill addiction had become a huge force in his life. His parents had kicked him out, let him back in, kicked him out…and the cycle continued. They were worried. They didn’t know what to do. They did the best they could. They loved him unconditionally. Like most parents---they tried it all.

When I got the call regarding his passing, I couldn’t help but reflect on the little boy I had known. I had just seen him weeks before working at a drive through at a restaurant. He came to the window, all personable, “HEY STEPH!!!”  I said, “Well, hey, Al!”  It didn’t matter what was going on in his life, he still was friendly and kind when I would see him. I knew he and my daughter had both made a mess of their lives at that time---but I also knew the kind of kids that they once were. You couldn’t help but love him. “How did this happen to him?”  It made me sick.

His parents asked me to do a video for his funeral service. I was honored. I have only made a few videos for graduation and another for another friend who passed—but had never made one for a formal service. I went to their house to get the disc of photos. I was nervous about going there. It was a sad and scary reality that I feared would happen in my own life. A parent’s worst nightmare. I was scared to face the same parents that I had known for so long. Longtime teen sweethearts, having to bury their child. What do you even say to someone? No words can possibly ease the pain.  I walked into their house and they both hugged me. His dad began to cry. Here was this man, who I watched through the years, coaching his son’s in baseball---a funny, fun-loving guy, who always seemed so strong. He was a crumpled mess. He was broken hearted. He was devastated.  It broke my heart. I had no words. Alex’s mom tried to stay composed but she looked so tired and so numb. She seemed to be the one who was trying to hold things together, but maybe reality hadn’t quite sunk in yet. You could feel the love in that house. You could also feel the pain and absence of their child already.

I took the pictures home and began to make the video. I started it with a picture of his daddy holding him for the very first time. Ironically, his mom wasn’t in any of the pictures. I even asked her if she had any—and she couldn't find any. She was always the picture taker.   Always there—just never on that side of the camera. I hated that she wasn’t in any of them. She remembered the facts and circumstances behind every photo. She was the one who captured the memory. I finished the video with a current photo. He was a fan of the Green Bay Packers. His pallbearers all wore Green Bay shirts at his service. During the service, his parents had someone sitting between them; I believe it was a niece, whom they were comforting. After the video played, I looked over and saw them stand up and go to each other and embrace. They just stood there crying, holding one another. It was one of the saddest things I had ever seen. Here these two people were, who brought this brown-eyed baby into the world---and having to bury him at age 21.

“How could their lives ever be the same without this dark and curly haired funny guy? How could his friends ever be the same without his laugh and entertainment? How could his siblings ever find normalcy again?  How can his parents live through this?” After all, he was their “O” in their Joy. His mom told me their stocking holders at Christmas spell JOY. They hang their 3 children’s stockings and Alex, goes in the middle, being the middle child. He is the “O” in Joy. She just kept saying one night, “He is my O in Joy. He will always be the O in my joy!” For the two years since his death, she has continued to hang the stockings.

6 months ago, I was driving my daughter to Dallas for treatment and Alex’s mom talked to her on the phone. She asked her to play a song, so I downloaded it. She said it was a song Alex used to listen to and he said that my daughter had shared it with him and it had become a favorite of hers. It was called “Into the Ocean” by Blue October. Never heard it in my life until that day. The chorus goes, like this:

                        “I want to swim away, but don’t know how

                        Sometimes I feel just like I’m falling in the ocean

                        Let the waves up take me down

                        Let the hurricane set in motion…yeah

                        Let the rain of what I feel right now…come down

                        Let the rain come down…”

What appropriate lyrics to how we were all feeling right then. Here my daughter was trying to save her life…and Alex’s mom was throwing her a life vest. As they talked for about 30-45 minutes, my daughter stayed very strong but I could tell Alex’s mom was crying. I could hear her say, “You have to do this. You must do this. You must fix this. He is with you.”  They hung up and my daughter cried. She said, “I can’t believe we have put our mom’s through this pain. I can’t believe he is gone. I feel so bad for her.”

I talk to his mom quite a bit. We are very good friends. I could not ask for a more supportive friend. Alex’s parents want nothing more than to see other people’s lives changed and some good to come from their tragic loss. We talk a lot about the struggles of our children and how we wish we could have changed the path they chose. Of course now we see things we did not see back then and we compare notes. We reminisce about their childhood and funny things they did as kids. I know that Alex’s parents are cheerleaders who are at the finish line rooting for my daughter to succeed. I would like to think that if I lost my child, I could be as supportive to others as they are to me. Their friendship has strengthened me. I know each day they have to make a conscious effort to keep going and living their lives. I know that the hole in their hearts will never be filled.

I hope other’s can look at Alex’s parents and see the enormous pain his loss has caused and if they need help, they will seek it.  I know nothing would make his parent’s happier than if his lesson could change lives. He loved life and he would not have wanted it to end on March 22, 2012 and knowing how much he loved people---I know he would want others to learn from his tragic ending. My heart still aches for his parents. I am blessed by their friendship and I pray for them daily.

So---on March 22nd, please say a prayer for Alex’s family and remember their “O” in Joy. 

The Cell Phone Dilemma. To Deactivate or Not to Deactivate.

We can all relate to the dependency on a cell phone in our lives. I’m addicted to mine. I hate it. I wish I could throw it in the trash and never look at it again. If I did though, I might miss something on Facebook or Instagram. The conveniences of a cell phone make them a necessity in our lives. The cell phone is a powerful tool, sometimes, a negative one. Not only does it take attention away from family, interrupt your meals in a restaurant (I hate it when people talk on their phone in a restaurant), but can also be a useful tool for an addict when they are seeking drugs. This leads to the constant dilemma of parents with addicted children-“Do I shut off his/her cell phone?” It’s a question I asked myself many times. There are times when me, my husband and son all agreed that “yes, her phone should be shut off.”  When I did shut it off, it lasted about two weeks, maybe three.  In those weeks, I would cry at night and lie in my husband’s arms, just praying for a glimpse of my daughter’s face. I can remember saying to him, “I just want to see her profile, her little nose, her big eyes…I just want to see my baby’s face.” One night during a crying episode, my husband said something that I will never forget.  He said, “Stephanie, it is worth the $20 per month for you to have peace of mind. Turn her phone back on.”  He was right. I got out my laptop computer and logged onto our cell phone account and turned it back on.

After we reactivated it, I sent her a text to let her know. Magically, she still had her phone readily available. Did she know I would buckle? Did she know I would lose the stand-off and give in? I really didn’t care the rhyme or reason, I was just happy to get back the text that said, “Thank you.”  My heart started beating again.  Almost immediately I was able to sleep better. Better, not well…but better. Nights are the worst because your mind can wander and take you through every scary scenario and every tragic ending you can create in your head. Sleep has become something I don't get very much of in recent years.

I have probably shut her phone off about 15 times since that event 4 years ago. I’ve changed her number 4-5 times. I’ve confiscated her messages and intruded into her private conversations and I offer no apologies for that. We pay the bill. We have a right to know what’s going on with her phone, if it leads back to my name and my bill. If she wants to pay for a phone herself---she can have the luxury of privacy. Her phone has been a plethora of information through the years.   I’ve learned abbreviations for drugs, nicknames of “friends” and have blocked many numbers. Smart Limits from AT&T became one of my favorite tools.

             Another thing I quickly realized while she had no cell phone, was that she still managed to get by in life. She still managed to get to the store, go with her “friends” places and communicate with the people she wanted.  She just wasn’t communicating with me very often and that was hard on me. I wanted to be able to reach my daughter if and when I wanted to---for my own sanity. I wanted to know she was alive and still walking the earth. I wanted to know that I had one more night, one more day to try to get my daughter back. The cell phone was on, just because of me, not for her…for me.

Some parents or loved ones feel strongly that shutting off the addict’s phone is the best way to handle the situation because it emphasizes tough love and paying for a phone is considered enabling. I can definitely see their point. Sure, by giving her a phone to call drug dealers, I was making it a bit easier for her, but in my justification, she was going to do that anyway.  To the parents who can shut off the phone and leave it off—I applaud them. To them, I say “Good for you! I admire your strength.”  It’s true that by allowing them to have a phone, you are giving them contact with the drug world that they might not have. The phone is another expense that they don’t have to work for; and it is also a tool for them to send hateful text messages to their family in the heat of their active addiction. Those are all things that parents must consider. Some parents prefer the lack of contact. It gives them better peace not having to deal with the constant bantering from their addict. They prefer “not to know.” I can completely understand their thinking.

While in treatment, most facilities will not allow cell phones. Not only for confidentiality reasons (they don’t want patient’s posting photos of anonymous and sometimes famous clients on social media); and they don’t want a patient to have contact with the outside world and sometimes negative influences. I personally love it when there isn’t an option of whether she can have her cell phone and it takes the decision out of my hands. I love being able to say “Sorry, no phones allowed” and not worrying about her well-being. It is a peaceful feeling.  The moment she can have her phone again, a fear overtakes my sanity at times. I think I called her 27 times in a row one night. I admit it. I was scared and co-dependent on trying to save her.

I have had people ask me my opinion on whether to shut off their addict’s phone—and my answer is “I don’t know.”  If you can sleep at night and it’s easier for you not to communicate—shut the thing off. If you can’t sleep and prefer communication—then don’t. I don’t think there is a right or wrong answer. I think with everything else regarding addiction, you have to do what is best for yourself and your family.

Personally, right now I’m trying to conquer my “Phone Nazi” habits. Once she has her phone back, I’m going to try to make a point not to call her very often. I’m going to try to stay off the Smart Limits and I’m going to pray to God she uses her cell phone for employment and good purposes. I’m going to try not to research every number on my bill. I’m going to TRY to let her have the ability to make good choices and stand on her feet. Let’s face it, whether I monitor her phone or not, is not going to change a thing. Her choice to be clean is in her hands, its not reliant upon a cell phone.

So—the cell phone dilemma is a personal preference. It’s not going to win or lose the battle. It’s not going to change your world. It will or won’t give you peace of mind…so don’t beat yourself up on whichever route you choose. If you are making a decision you feel comfortable about---it's the right one. 

I'm NOT Angry...I'm Enlightened.

Well, it’s been 30 days since I started my blog. I’ve been really touched by the support from my friends, acquaintances and even strangers who have reached out to me. I have had a lot of private messages from concerned individuals that I’m either harboring anger or that I blame other people for my daughter’s addiction. I’m not writing this blog to rant, rave and complain. I’m writing it because people are so reluctant to talk about it openly. I’m writing about it because I’m not ashamed of my family’s journey. I’m not ashamed of my daughter. I love her just as deeply as I did the moment I held her the very first time. Am I disappointed? Yes, I am. Am I hurt? You bet. Am I angry? I guess so. Sure, at times.

I am not only irritated with her decisions, however; I’m irritated with the drug problem as a whole. I'm irritated that so many people are completely oblivious to the problem, or don't care, because it doesn't effect their family personally. I'm very angry that the United States FDA is allowing the release of a new medication that is even stronger than oxycotin and that they have been advised NOT to release this medication into our society---yet they are doing it anyway.  (Google Zohydro--it will anger you too). I’m frustrated that some of the same people who were dishing out pills to my daughter and many kids who are now either in prison or dead---are still dishing out pills.  Yes, I’m angry with that and you should be too. Is there an easy solution to the problem? No, there isn’t and I’ve been learning that the hard way. 

This week I’ve reflected on things that have been a thorn in my side and I am attempting to reach out to volunteer my time to help in my community. I am hoping if I take a different approach rather than just being an intrusive, complaining constituent, that maybe, just maybe, I can make a bigger difference. I want to see a Drug Court instituted in Jasper County, Missouri. I have researched this topic thoroughly and evidence overwhelmingly indicates that the system we are using here---isn't working. I want to see a system recognized by the State which keeps statistical information and tracks results. I want to know how many people are participating in the program; and I want to see it appropriately supervised---otherwise, it won't work. I’ve requested information and can't get any feedback---so rather, I have contacted other counties and states to inquire about their Drug Courts. Each and every county I spoke to, were thrilled to tell me about their programs. They are proud of their success. They are saving taxpayers approximately $10,000 per year per offender by instituting the Drug Court. In Tulsa County, for example, they have incorporated such a system that they have an impressive success rate. They offer vouchers for public transportation so that people in the program can get to and from work. Often times, drug offenders do not have a valid license. With the transportation vouchers, that is no longer a valid excuse to remain unemployed. They require offenders in the program to submit to random drug testing multiple times per month. They require those in the program to be employed, be responsible...and they are changing lives. Why wouldn’t a county want to save the taxpayers money? Why wouldn’t a county want to free up space in the overcrowded jails? To me, it’s a no- brainer. Law enforcement officials and Courts are overwhelmed with drug cases and most of the offenders are going unpunished due to lack of resources.  I know there are outstanding people in my community and I know they do not want this county to be known for rampant drug use or leniency on drug offenders. I simply think this area has been inundated with problems that have become larger than what our local government can handle. It’s a common problem throughout this nation, unfortunately. It's not just a problem in my state or county.

So, I guess you could say I’m a woman on a mission. My heart aches for the parents who have had to bury their children. My heart aches for the parents who have no idea where their child is tonight. My heart aches for the people who are held captive by addiction and have no one to talk to and don’t know where to turn. If my little blog can shed any light of hope on those people, or bring any sort of comfort to parents like me, then I’ve accomplished a personal goal. My goal is not to isolate my friends in the legal community. My goal is not to beat up on the law enforcement officials. I’ll tell you quite candidly, if it weren’t for my county’s legal community—my daughter would not be alive today. That goes from the law office that employed her, to the Judge and Prosecutor who helped me get her to treatment. I am eternally grateful. One of my very best male friends is an attorney and he stood beside me in Court and helped me get my daughter into treatment. I love those people and they are my friends. Without their help, she wouldn't be here. She wouldn't be alive. I know it in my heart. I just want to give other addicts the same help that we were able to give her. I want to help people who want to be helped.  I’m not angry with my elected officials. I just want to help them, help others.  I guess I'm not angry as much as I am just no longer naive.  I want to roll up my sleeves and help. I don't want to be a threat or addition to the problem. I want to help find some solutions. 

I hope that clears up any questions regarding my mood or motive. 

Big stuff happening in our lives this week. Talk to you in a few days.

Everyone stay safe in the icy weather!



Update:

The State of Missouri informed me that Jasper County does have an adult drug court. If anyone within that program could tell me 1) The program requirements; 2) the amount of participants; 3) Who is handling the monitoring of participants; 4) the criteria for an offender to be able to participate; 5) the success rate; and 6) how much money the State of Missouri provides for funding the program....I would sincerely appreciate that information.