I am the youngest in a family of four – 2 boys, 2 girls. My dad was a dedicated neurologist and my mom a devoted homemaker, kid raiser and amazing Cajun cook. I arrived on the scene 9 years after the youngest boy. My mom corrects everyone that says I was an accident by exclaiming ‘she was a surprise and a blessing’! Makes me feel good when she says that. I was thoroughly spoiled until eventually my siblings left home and all at once I was an only child.
I learned to use my imagination, being creative about ways to entertain myself. I’ve always been an athlete and a performer and somewhat of an introverted extrovert. I was never really sure about what I might do for a career, but I always, always knew I would have a family and strive to be the best mom in the world!
My first marriage lasted 20 years. Abe and I raised 2 incredibly special kids- Isabel and Alec. I am so proud of both of them – the people they are, the heart they have and the impact they have on those around them. I remarried in 2020 and my husband Mike has been by my side through the hardest times in my life. I gained 2 bonus kids – David and Ashlyn – and 2 bonus grandkids – Elaina and Winter.
The hardest times in my life started in 2019 after the divorce. Isabel just finished her freshman year in college and Alec was about to start high school. We navigated joint custody of Alec the best we could – first with one week at each parents house. All of us found that difficult, so we switched to 2 weeks. Covid hit in 2020 and we had a scare with my dad in 2021. We almost lost him due to negligence at the nursing home he was living at. After much consideration, I brought my dad home to live with us. I threw myself into caring for him and nursing him back to health. He was reunited with mom at home after 6 months.
Nothing compares to what happened on June 24, 2022. Alec was 17 years old. It was a Friday – Mike and I were working from home and Alec was scheduled for work at 4:00 pm. He grabbed some leftovers for lunch and stopped by my home office to say hello. The last words we shared were ‘I love you’. I found him unresponsive in his room a few hours later – a victim of Fentanyl.
The trauma I experienced finding Alec that day, trying to save his life and the devastation of losing him crushed me into an unrecognizable version of myself. I’ve suffered extremes of the most negative emotions – unimaginable fear, fierce anger and crippling sadness. The first year after his death was a blur. I did not celebrate the holidays. I struggled getting out of bed every day. My cries were the penetrating wails only a mother who lost a child can produce. I did not know how I would go on with my life. I did not want to exist in a world without Alec.
The second year has been better for me. I’ve learned more about how to deal with my emotions, with lots of help from therapy of all kinds. A therapist, who I prioritize meeting with every month. All kinds of self care – allowing myself a nap if its the only way to escape the pain, wrapping myself up in comfortable places, warm baths and facials. Reading or listening to lots of books – I’ve learned to stay away from the negative ones that only focus on the pain. The ones that help me are those focused on recovery. I try very hard not to fall into the pit of self pity. That is the worst place for me to be. I let myself grieve the loss of Alec. Once I release the tears and heartache, I attempt to redirect my energy towards positive emotions – gratefulness for Alec’s life and the gift of being his mother, feeling peace by imagining the joy he is experiencing in heaven and loving Alec in all the ways I can from here.
