Steve Wildsmith is one of our region’s most talented music writers. He’s the weekend editor for The Maryville Daily Times, and he covers the arts with a fresh, insightful approach that mes people want to learn more about artists they would have never considered listening to before reading Steve’s coverage and interviews. He’s also a recovering addict and he gives freely and lovingly of himself to help other addicts in need in our community.
Soon after Henry returned from almost 9 months away at inpatient addiction treatment last fall, just as he turned 18, he began using again. I was frantic with worry, and at that point, I was forced to ask Henry to leave our home until he agreed to return to drug treatment. Even after Henry moved out, until the day he died, he and I only rarely went more than 24 hours without talking or spending time together. We spent a lot of that time with me begging him to accept the help that his father and I were offering. Henry knew he had a serious problem, but he assumed – with the naive stupidity of youth – that he could figure out a way to handle it himself, without causing anyone any problems or expense.
I contacted Steve, whom I knew through mutual friends, and asked him to meet with Henry and me last winter. I hoped that Henry might connect with Steve over their shared passion for music and that he might respond positively to Steve’s straightforward, brutally honest approach toward addiction. The three of us shared a meal together, where I probably did most of the talking, so eager was I to push Henry to listen to Steve’s hard-earned wisdom. Henry was – as he always was – completely polite and friendly – but totally noncommittal. He simply wasn’t ready to hear what Steve needed for him to hear. I remember rather absurdly reminding Henry to keep his napkin in his lap during the meal, and to take smaller bites; yes, I was worried about my child’s table manners even as the topic under discussion was his addiction to hard street drugs that would eventually take his life. I was frantic to find ways to continue mothering him, even as I remained utterly useless in my 24-7 efforts to mother him safely through the drug addiction I feared was going to snatch my baby boy away from me.
Steve stayed in touch with me after that meal with Henry. He would ask how Henry was doing and offer to try again to meet with him. But we both knew that Henry wasn’t yet in a place where he could hear Steve’s message of hope and healing. I prayed every day that my son would reach that place before it was too late.
Today, Steve’s written a beautiful column about Henry’s struggles. I want to publicly thank Steve for everything he does to help addicts and their families in our community. He has a beautiful heart and there is no telling how many lives he’s saved, even if despite Steve’s best efforts, my own son wasn’t among them. That’s because you can’t “save” someone from their own addiction until they are ready to save themselves. I truly believe that Henry was in the beginning stages of reaching that life-saving awareness when he died, but now he will never have the chance to take the next step toward recovery.
21 Responses to “Steve Wildsmith’s column about Henry today”
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Katie, I know it is only small comfort, but I’ve added a tribute to Henry on my silly little blog today. Your story has really touched me. Praying for you…
http://gojennings.tumblr.com/post/673535378/henry-louis-granju
I think I have said before on here that Steve is a WONDERFUL person. I met him at a time in my life when I wasn’t ready to be around addicts (recovering or otherwise) because of my ex. I began speaking with Steve anyway because you can just tell from his writing that he has a wonderful soul. I hope he is able to help you.
My goodness what a beautifully written piece from Steve! I’ve been away from Knoxville a while and didn’t know about his column. It makes me really calmed to know that there’s an addiction/recovery columnist as thoughtful and talented as he to give so many a voice. Maybe through conduits like Steve more and more people will understand, and more and more people will see themselves in others.
Beautiful.
I clicked over from Laundry For Six and have read back through your recent posts. I am so, so sorry for your loss.
As it happens, my 14 year old son and I have been clashing in a terrible test of wills for the past 24 hours. I was feeling such anger towards him this morning. But your posts and your pain make me want to go pull him out of school early and hug him hard, whether he wants me to or not.
Again – my condolences.
That is a beautiful telling of Henry’s story.
Katie, you loved your boy exquisitely, and there is nothing more you could have done. I hope you can find some peace in that. I am so sorry for your loss, but now Henry lives on through your memories. You have done him such a great service. More and more people know his name, and have been moved by his story, and some may be saved by what happened to him. Thank you for that.
Such a beautiful tribute by Steve! Thank you for sharing it. I am keeping you and your family in my prayers.
I too, have a “Henry” on my hands, a beautiful young man, whom everybody loves, who also will calmly state why he doesn’t consider himself an addict, why “experimenting” with pot and alcohol is just fine, no big deal, everybody does it…and when I lay in bed at night, when he isn’t home, and I hear police sirens, my first thought is always “I hope he’s okay”…Ultimately,as Henry’s story shows. as a parent, there is very little you can do and to be frank, that scares the hell out of me…
Thank you for sharing your story Katie, I intend to make/let my son (whom I’ve told about Henry) read Steve’s column tonight, in hopes it may alter his thinking about doing these things…
Powerfully written.
It seems that Henry was who he was..
I know that WHAT he was … was desperately loved.
It is so heartbreaking to think that a mother’s love at times may not be enough to turn a child from a self destructive past.
It makes me want to tear my hair out with frustration at times.
For Henry, for my own R and for some of my students as well…
why, why, WHY????
absolutely beautifully written.
Beautiful! So beautiful!
I worked for a recovery program at Child and Family, Inc. years ago in a program called the Respond Program. We provided outpatient therapy and referrals to parents who were either going to lose their children because of substance abuse or had already lost their children and were trying to regain custody.
I know what you were up against and unfortunately Henry’s need for additional inpatient therapy and recovery happened around the time he turned 18 – an age when all kids want to be free from their parents. In addition, he spent 9 months outside your immediate care. The thought of returning back to a restrictive environment with rules and the care of his parents just wasn’t appealing and certainly not as delicious as total independence.
In addition, by coming back to the exact same environment, Henry returned to those same environmental triggers and stressors – his old drug usage haunts, his old connections and friends (and foes), and the fear of being big disappointment to you and his father and other ones who had invested in his well-being.
This is such a sensitive period in a young person’s life. And older addict, even by just a few years may have already have responsibilities and dependents that may have given him more of a motivation to get better. Not saying that’s a guarantee but he may have had a better perspective of the consequences of his actions and the allure of being on his own may have not been so irresistable.
And if he knew his drug usage may turn for the worse, sometimes addicts rationalize that the family may be better off anyway, especially if they felt very guilty. Not saying he would chose death over life, but an addict may not take the necessary steps from preventing tragedy.
But I believe he wanted to be better. Unfortunately, with tramatic brain injuries, much of the damage had already been done before he was admitted to the hospital.
I don’t think that there is anything different you could have done. You did what you could.
God gives us special gifts and special assignments with which to use those gifts. Your gift is writing and communicating. Your words are like little pieces and parts of yourself and when people say mean accusatory things in return, it’s hard not to take it personal.
The devil wants you to be quiet. He wants to silence your pen (your keystrokes) But please keep using your spiritual gifts and talents so that other mothers and families have an insight to what you went thru.
I believe one day we’ll be able to find better treatment for substance abuse. That day is not today. But openness, honesty and transparency is a step in the right direction.
You are and will always be Henry’s mother.
I am truely touched how strong you are, you are an amazing person. I started to follow your story awhile back as I have a young boy and fear the day when peer pressure takes over or the first curious thought that goes through my sons mind. Thank you for your words of wisdom and your story. I wish many prayers and happiness to you and your family in the future. Even though I don’t know Henry I think of him and your family often and he sounded like an incredible son.
That was a really beautiful column that your friend Steve wrote about Henry. As a recovering addict himself, I am quite sure he knows what he is talking about. He was one of the lucky ones who saved himself, unfortunately Henry was one of the unlucky ones. I am still so very sorry and your family will remain in my thoughts and prayers every day.
Aimee
What a wonderful column Steve wrote. I think he put so many things into perspective, maybe lifting a little weight from your shoulders.
Henry was so loved, and surrounded by family and friends that would have done anything to save him. Until he was ready to admit that he needed help, there was NOTHING anyone could do. He was a beautiful, young man. Thank you so much for sharing part of his journey with us. My thoughts and prayers are with you and your family as ya’ll begin this this next stage of your life.
Wow, what a fantastic writer depicting the darkest tragedy. Thanks for sharing, Katie. My heart aches for all of you. My eyes have truly been open, my life changed by this horrific loss.
Heartbreaking and beautiful. Everyone tried so hard to help Henry. But his story WILL help others.
What an amazing, beautiful piece. I have been thinking about you so much Katie. I hope you feel all the love and support from everyone. It is so obvious that Henry was loved–and that he knew it. He was a beautiful boy and you are a wonderful mom. You did all the right things.
that was such an amazing article. steve interview my boyfriend richard last year and richard said it was one of the best interviews he’s had. steve really is an amazing person.
katie, this is so heartbreaking. it is so difficult have a loved one with an addiction problem. i’ve been thinking so much about henry this past month, trying to make sense of this tragedy. a part of me feels that henry knew that this was his destiny. i think he felt that his story needed to be heard so sacrificed himself to save others. the problem with addition is so horrible, especially with young kids. i really do think that henry’s story will strike a cord with so many teens, in return saving so many lives. does that make sense? i really do think that the story of henry’s heartbreaking tragedy, will wind up saving hundreds of live.
sheila o.
Thank you for linking to Steve’s piece. His truth is simple and powerful. I’ve shared it, and Henry’s story, with my teenagers and we all send strangerlove.
I’m sorry for your loss.