Dear Friend, I miss you today...

"Where are these scars from?" she asked.

"They're battle wounds," I replied

"Who were you battling?"

                                            "Myself."      author unknown                     

                                             

My son Max was a warrior.

Since his death I have slowly begun to look through his belongings and read through his journals. The entries tell me that my son was fighting a battle within himself that not even those of us that were closest to him truly understood.

During these days of sobriety, when he was safely in treatment and I was able to sleep at night, he learned to convey his feelings through art and music and letters he would write.

"Dear Friend" it would say, "I miss you today."

He was poetic in his verse and humble in his art. His heart yearned for sobriety, but his mind had him locked in a very dark place. 

"There is no oxygen here" he wrote. "My body, so malnourished because of you, has grown from 165lbs to 205lbs in the 45 days I have been here. If only I felt inside like I look on the outside."

He drew images of lions and swords and hands grasped tightly to bars that they could not escape.

On the outside he was becoming whole, but on the inside he was fighting a never-ending battle.

I have so much admiration for my son. He touched so many lives. People are sober today BECAUSE OF MY SON. 

What a great honor to be able to raise  a young man who could change lives simply because he existed. The battles he faced, and ultimately the war he lost, is a testament to the strong, innovative young man he was. 

He was fearless.

He was compassion.

He was titanium in a world made of mercury.

He was smores on a perfect spring night.

He was love. Pure in form.

"Dear Friend" he wrote, "I can't see you anymore. You have taken everything from me, my family, my home, my youth, my memories. You aren't my friend. You never were. But still I know that you won't ever leave me. No. Not really. It is only in death that we shall part."

For Max, and all of those that have lost their battle with addiction, join me in remembering on Saturday, August 31, 2013.

International Overdose Prevention and Awareness Day