I haven’t written in a while. If you follow my blog you will understand why. I lost my son and my daughter in one years time, Fentanyl and Morphine were the cause for my son. I’m still waiting for my daughter’s results.
Every minute of every day is a different emotion but the anxiety never goes away. Well, when I’m with my grandchildren, I’m happy, thinking only of them when we’re together. And my youngest daughter and her husband, of course.
My kids weren’t in a bad place when they died, I mean on the outside but inside they were tortured. Sixteen years of addiction for my son, my daughter about eleven. That’s a lot of shit, bad shit, bad people, bad actions, bad feelings. Both of them always talked a good talk because that’s really what they wanted. To live a normal life, have a career, just be happy. But they couldn’t. For some reason they just couldn’t do it.
The saddest part is that I know they suffered so much for all those years. Everyday, for all that time.
My daughter had confidence in jail. Everyone knew her, everyone loved her. She brightened the C.O.’s day, as per the Officer who called me to express his shock and sadness. She braided hair, learned how to weave hair, thread eyebrows, make makeup from colored pencils. She was in charge of her dorm, has worked in the offices, kitchen etc. But after 8 years in and out of prison (mostly in), she became institutionalized. She was still 20 when she came out, not mentally 27. She wanted to live, the right way but she couldn’t even give herself a chance. She had it all and I watched her life deteriorating all this time. It was heartbreaking.
When she got out this time, the P.O. drug tested her and she was positive for cocaine. We literally went from jail to parole. How did she use? The parole officer brought her out to me and had Jenna tell me “mom, I did coke in jail. ” A load had come in the day before she left, who knows if that’s true, drugs are always available in jail. Not so much in County jail, where she was this time but most definitely in Prison. I guess the P.O. was being “nice” but she let my daughter go. I wish she had brought her right back. She died four days later at home in her bed. I can’t believe I’m writing this, it’s true.
My two babies are gone forever.
I know they are happy and at peace, I tell myself about a thousand times a day but the reality that they are dead, I can’t deal with that. I know this is going to be a long road but I will travel it carefully so I can be there for those who need me. This pain is indescribable. Rest easy my babies. I love you both forever. ❤️🙏❤️