The last time I spoke to Henry before he was hospitalized was by phone on April 25th. On April 26th, I got two texts from him. One said “I love you mom,” and the second one, late in the afternoon said “Mom, I’m having a really rough day.” I tried to call him several times after that, throughout the evening, but I got his voicemail. It was unusual for him not to return my calls or texts, and I was worried about him (well, I was always worried about him, but more worried after receiving that last text.). I didn’t sleep well that night; I had bad dreams about Henry.
The next time I saw Henry was around noon on April 27th, when I was called to the hospital. He was in a coma and on a ventilator.
That last message from him, about having a “rough day” will always haunt me. If only I’d been able to get to him then, and bring him home, before he went to that terrible final place with people who didn’t love him or even know him except as a throwaway junkie and a potential source of income, and where no one helped him at all.
34 Responses to “What ifs”
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Turn away from the “what ifs”.
They will only torture you and drive you mad.
Only Peace and Love to you and your family.
Oh, this is the worst question you can ask yourself. But I absolutly understand why you do. I have been asking myself the same question about my friend David. What if the last time I saw him, instead of being hurt by what I thought was his indifference, I had thought a bit more that my David couldn’t possibly be this indifferent without a reason. What if I had bought him a plane ticket to come visit me in Paris. What if I had called more instead of less. Heck… What if I had never moved to France… Would David have died. I don’t know. After nearly four years I still don’t have an answer.
You seem like a wonderful parent. As I read your story, I don’t know how you could have been a better mother to Henry. Don’t let this haunt you for too long, you have plenty of pain without adding another layyer.
Take care of yourself.
Miss A.
Katie, I am going to be frank and I don’t want to come off as insenstive by any means but I just have to be honest. I think the hardest thing for you to deal with right now is the fact that you keep blaming yourself. That you might have somehow prevented it or stopped it. One day you will be able to let go of that feeling. I hope sooner than later because you have some other wonderful kids that need you and a new baby that will needs all of your attention. When you finally come to realize how drug addictions work and how the “beast,” as we used to call it, took over your son it will help you see it. He did not want to be an addict, none of them do. But, he wouldn’t stop and there was no way you could stop it. Henry made bad choices–not Katie, but Henry. He came back from a treatment center and could have stayed clean but he chose to get back into his drug addiction. You had absolutely NO role in his addiction. You didn’t cause it. You didn’t make the choice for him and you couldn’t take the choice away from him. There was NOTHING you could say or do to change his mind. I yelled, I cried, I begged, I bribed, I did everything. It wasn’t about me and it wasn’t about you. As mother’s we think we can fix everything for our kids. We always do and think we always can. This is not something I could fix and it’s not something you could have fixed. No mother can fix this. It’s much bigger than us. Be mad at the drug dealers, be mad at the people who participated in this, and yes, even be mad at Henry but you have to stop blaming yourself or thinking you could have somehow prevented it. Henry wouldn’t even take your calls. My son wouldn’t take mine either. They don’t want to talk to us because it makes them feel even more guilty because they won’t stop. They don’t want to talk to people they love because they know we are hurting and they don’t want to feel more guilt than they already do. My son told me he wanted to die. He didn’t want to live a life of a drug addict. He would rather be dead than be held hostage to drugs. I know there was a time that it would have been a relief for him. The only way I was able to get through this was with God’s help. I got on my knees every night and asked Him to take the pain, and guilt, from me. I could not have done it without God’s help. I have been facilitating a Family Support Group for several years and I hear the same stories and the same guilt and the same pain every week. It is only through God’s help that we are able to let go. I will keep you in my prayers.
You two were obviously very close. Honestly, I hope my son is texting I love you’s to me when he’s 18.
I’m assuming that the line between rescuing and enabling is very blurred when you’re going through years of addiction with a child. Likewise, with a child who is on the cusp of adulthood, ideally now responsible for their own behavior. And as you said this wasn’t exactly the first time he had worried you. I don’t blame you one bit for being haunted by that, of course you are. But you really couldn’t have known. He and the people he was with made some terrible mistakes that night, but you didn’t.
I understand the ‘what if’ and think that if you need to do them, then do.
Grief and dealing and working out whatever the individual needs to is normal and necessary and even while very very painful, it will has to happen sometimes.
What might be “right” for one might not be for another; it’s unique and our prayers are here no matter what you need to do to process this agony in your life and heart.
As mothers it’s our job to fix our babies and when something tragic happens, we are naturally going to have tremendous regret and guilt and what if’s.
Dear K:
No one can save another’s life. No matter how strong they think they are (or even if they’ve been published in the New Yorker). No one has that kind of control over another life … not even a mother.
At 18, Henry was a child in some ways; in others, he’d spent years with his friends, making his own way & growing up. Just like all kids do. His choices regarding drugs endangered his health/well being, but he really was not much different than all teenagers — we all did reckless things that could have hurt us/gotten us into trouble. Most of us managed to get through those difficult years. Others, like Henry, seem to be more fragile and suseptible to the dark sides of life. And there’s no way you — or anyone else — could take that pain away. You did your very best for him, but , at the end of the day, no one truly, single-handedly can save another.
Be gentle with yourself ….
Set your own life time more simple take the loan and all you need.
Dear Katie: You have received wise advice here. My heart hurts for you – I do so know the feeling of sitting and asking ‘what if.’
And as a mother, the question begs to be asked in these situations.
So, I say with love, ask it. Ask it every which way there is. Then, wrap it up and put it away. And if you need to ask it again, do the same thing. There will come a time when you will not need to ask it anymore. You still won’t have an answer, but you won’t need to ask.
Please be kind to yourself – you are so kind to everyone around you (really, not asking for help to get things ready for the new baby!). please let yourself experience grace and mercy FROM you (as well as from others) – because you are so worthy of receiving that. With love.
Sadness Katie. I know these moments will haunt you. But if it hadn’t been April 25, 26, 27….it may have ended up being another time, another place, and with other people where there are no rules or boundaries. It is sad how we humans can come to regard each other, like crabs in a barrel. ‘If I have to climb over you, step on you, with the possibility of getting where I want to be, so be it.’
The gift you have given me is to watch my son and to make sure that the lines of communication are open. He’s not an addict, but he has some behavioral issues that concern me. And his life is changing, going from daily interaction with classmates and sports, to a lack-luster part-time job, community college, and the other things 18 year olds wrestle with. I’m worried that he will get disillusioned and turn towards activities that will allow him to escape.
You did try to call Henry and you had no idea what serious trouble he was in, although your gut instinct bothered you enough to not be able to sleep well. But you didn’t know where he was or who he was with or how to get to him. Not like we did when our kids had play dates and you had parent’s phone numbers, or you could just go check on them at night in their bedroom down the hall.
And for all tense and purposes, he was an adult. And as you and others have said before, it’s difficult to get people to do what they don’t want to do. By the time he sent the 2nd text, he may have already been injured, slipping into confusion, and unable to recognize that he really needed help especially with a brain injuring looming and/or whatever else may have happened to him at that point.
Makes you wanna go and punch the vultures, argh! But unfortunately in bad situations, once they have passed, you don’t get do-overs. I still hope those responsible are brought to justice.
The great thing about this particular story, Katie, is that it’s obvious you did all you could have done at that particular time. You can wonder what would have happened if Henry had come home to you that night, but you don’t have to feel bad that you didn’t respond when he said he was having a rough time, that you didn’t try to reach him, because you did. You did everything you could. I know that doesn’t stop the “what if” loop running through your head. But I hope it takes away some of the feelings of guilt.
“What ifs” will make you crazy. Believe me, I’ve traveled that road before, and there is a great big nothing at the end. Try not to torture yourself. You really did do everything you possibly could.
“I still hope those responsible are brought to justice.”
Responsible for Henry taking drugs was Henry himself.
(((((Katie)))))
No mother should know the pain you are feeling right now. No words will truly easy your pain. Think of the last text and some of his last words “I’m having a having a rough day” and “I want to be free”. Your beautiful boy is free, the only pain left is for those who are left behind. I’m so sorry you are left with the pain, but know…PLEASE KNOW…that he is free of all rough days and all pain. He knows only joy now.
Thinking of you, Katie.
Also thinking of you, Katie, and wishing for you to have peace.
As those “what if” days tap you on the shoulder…seek comfort in friends. You’re strength is admirable and your determination to share his life with us allows him to be present.
Bryan – the fact that Henry made bad choices and took drugs does not justify assaulting and killing him, don’t you think so? Nobody deserves to die the way Henry died. There are people responsible for his death, and they have to pay the price for it. That’s how a country with laws works. Nobody is fair game for assault. If you justify crimes because of the victim’s status, you empty the law of its content. Violence must be punished.
Katie – you will always find another “what if” in Henry’s tragic story. Who knows how many times your intervention saved him before already? I have a little brother who is addicted to drugs, for many years now, and he is drifting away from us no matter what we do. We won’t give up on him, of course, but this is his doing, his choices.
You are Henry’s mother and you feel responsible, this is a mother’s job. But you had no complete control over his life. You did your work as mother, i.e., you enabled Henry to make his own decisions. Some of them were bad – this is the danger of being a human, some of our decisions are bad. And we follow through with them against better counsel from our parents.
Henry wouldn’t have wanted you to torture yourself that way. He loved you and wherever he is, he continues to love you. He would like to see you at peace with yourself.
May you have peace and may you find something like happiness in your life again. You yourself and your family deserve it.
Bryan – the fact that Henry made bad choices and took drugs does not justify assaulting and killing him, don’t you think so? Nobody deserves to die the way Henry died. There are people responsible for his death, and they have to pay the price for it. That’s how a country with laws works. Nobody is fair game for assault. If you justify crimes because of the victim’s status, you empty the law of its content. Violence must be punished.
Lila, I agree with you 100% about punishing violence and crimes. But Henry died of a grug overdose, no?
Pardon the spelling mistake, I meant drug overdose.
Dear sweet mama, I am praying for you and your family every day. I sense that you aren’t very religious so I would not want to push my beliefs in any way but I whole-heartedly believe Henry is not gone from you, and that you will be with him in the blink of an eye. I know this doesn’t change the pain- you can’t see him, can’t touch him- but love is real and I know our loved ones are not gone forever. I have to believe that to stay sane. And I know there is a special place in Heaven for mothers who have lost children, I just know it. I can’t even imagine the pain you are in, and I pray that it loosens its grip on you. <3 Sending thoughts of love and peace and hope and a beautiful birthing of your new baby. <3
You have received some wonderful words of supportive advice here, that mesh of love/advice/nudging that women are so good at and can be so invaluable. I will just say that I am sure I would be thinking and feeling the exact same things, and that for me, I know I would need a therapist to help keep nudging me. Because my mind has a tendency to get stuck completely in pain. It was something I had to do as a single mom at 20, to move forward from my abusive childhood. And any time since, when something too horrible to be- but really IS anyway- happens, my mind refuses to truly move forward and gets stuck in loops of excruciating pain- the very definition of hell. With the loss of your son I hope if you need this kind of help you will get it. At times reading your words is so painful and terrifying I wish I could physically hold you and comfort you. I hope you are getting this kind of love.
Bryan
In all the years of blogging I have never directly addressed someone else in a comments section to disagree with them, until now.
A grieving, pregnant mother’s place of sharing is NOT the place to argue your views on drug use and responsibility personally or through the law or really do much of anything else besides be here to support her. If you are not here for that, you are in the wrong place.
Not only that, but purposefully or not, you have just done what must be one of the shittiest, most selfish acts of your life in invading and disgregarding the suffering of a human being to promote your own opinions. A man should not act this way.
Maggie
Maggie May, you are wrong. Attack as much as you want, you are still wrong.
@Bryan:
” But Henry died of a grug overdose, no?”
No Bryan, he didn’t.
Henry died of brain trauma.
Technically, he died of a rare complication that arises from brain injury: Delayed Post-Hypoxic Leukoencephelopathy.
“Someone” bashed him in the head over and over with a tire iron. And then instead of taking him to a hospital, “friends” and “acquaintances” (or whatever you want to call them), watched him lay dying and vomiting on the floor. Instead of calling 911, somehow, a drug overdose was administered. Methadone, I believe. When Henry finally made it into the ER, X hours later (36?), he was bleeding from the ears from the assault.
If Henry had not been beaten in the head with a tire iron, he never would have had cerebral hypoxia; if he hadn’t had cerebral hypoxia, he wouldn’t have developed leukoencephelopathy. If he hadn’t developed leukoencephelopathy, he wouldn’t have died.
I’m not going to get into the hard judgmental belief system underpinning your comment, the one that claims that drug abuse is a moral issue, and not a physical disease. I will say though, that until this wrongheaded approach changes, America will continue to suffer.
Get your facts straight before you post Bryan.
You were a loving mother, always there for him and he knew it. From my blogs-eye view of your relationship it seems clear to me…that’s why the “I Love You” text. That’s why even in the deepest part of his drug addicted nightmare, he reached out to you, because all along you HAVE been there and he knew it. He felt it. You had no control over the drug addiction, it was not in your power to reverse.
Bravo Monika!
The explanation of the events needs to be said over and over.
I haven’t ever commented before, or read for very long at all -but a blogger friend linked to you following Henry’s death, and I watched the slideshow and I’ve been thinking of you all ever since. I truly feel like Henry somehow opened my eyes to something -and I hope you feel him always as you cuddle that new little girl close. You’re on my mind today.
I just read this post after your birth announcement – first happiness and now tears in my eyes. I wish you much strength as you navigate these waters. I have guilt and “what if” thoughts over such relatively minor things. At least you’re lucky though that the last communications with Henry were him telling him he loved you and telling you personal feelings of difficulty. He was so connected to you. I sometimes have nightmares about losing a child or close relative and my worry is always that our last interaction would be negative and I’d feel guilt and sorrow for the rest of my life over the last communication.
@Bryan: Go away. This is not the time or place to debate this issue, and your inability to identify the inappropriateness of your remark is appalling.
@Monika: Exactly!
I am heartbroken to hear your story. I have a 16 year old son in drug treatment as we speak. I am still in that place of thinking this shouldn’t be happening in OUR family. Thank you for sharing your experience and your heart. It is helpful to me and congratulations on the birth of your daughter. I can imagine that dealing with the death of one child and new life of another can be full of so many emotions. HUGS!
I completely understand the “what if’s”. They feel so real, so possible.
I know to most folks it doesn’t make sense… just ignore it, think positively. And I understand that too. But it’s only natural to think about all the other possible scenarios… good and bad. When it’s so fresh it’s hard to closer your eyes and visualize anything BUT the “what if’s”. Allow yourself to process it all and feel those emotions. It’s okay… really dang hard, but okay.
I have been reading about Henry and the rest of your beautiful family for just a short time now. Every time I get the courage to read I cry, grieve and sit in awe of you and yours. Sudden death, never saying a formal good-bye is haunting regardless of the circumstances. All the what-ifs, shoulda-coulda’s are a burden. I hope you can find peace in the beauty of your now. Love to you.