grief

A Christmas Story

It was a week before Christmas in 2014 and I was so dope sick that I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the next hour of my life. My nose was running, my eyes were watering, my skin was crawling, my legs were restless, and I needed to find a way to get high. All my bridges were burned, and my family’s patience was wearing thin. I took a “personal day” from my dead-end job and made my way back to my parents’ house. My dad came home and went directly upstairs with some cash he had taken out of his bank account for Christmas gifts. I stood perfectly still downstairs listening to the creaky wooden floor while counting his footsteps as he entered his bedroom. At this point he was hiding anything from me that had any real value. I found the envelop and stole most of the money that he was going to use for Christmas that year. I was forced out of their house and into a treatment center just four days later. It took me nearly a decade of situations exactly like this until I finally got sober. It wasn’t an overnight process and it surely wasn’t something I ever thought I would be able to accomplish. But instead of counting footsteps, I followed in the footsteps of the people that came before me. Recovery works – so please reach out if you need to follow in someone’s footsteps that was once where you are.

Thanks Dad

I don’t always give my father the credit he deserves because he has always been the glue that held my family together. He has always pulled himself up by his bootstraps and fought through any unfortunate situation he was presented with. My drug addiction put a serious strain on our relationship for many years, and it seemed like we couldn’t see eye to eye on anything. Today, I can finally say that I have the relationship with my father that I always wanted. After all, he has always been a hero of mine because of how he built a life for himself though his own hard work and dedication. Being home for the holidays and watching football together for the first time in years was one of the best Christmas gifts I could have asked for. Thanks for everything Dad.

A Letter to My Brother

I wrote this letter after getting news of the death of my best friend. A man that I looked up to in more ways than I could ever express. I have been thinking about him a lot recently and I wanted to share this so his memory would live on. I wrote this letter and spoke these words at his memorial services this past July. 

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