Many called him Mikey…he was the firstborn grandchild in my family. He was loved, adored, super spoiled and cherished. The love that he received was as big as the sky.  He was friendly, outgoing and very silly. I think, comedy and laughter were part of his silly personality. He was always pushing the envelope for a laugh. He was a very upbeat, happy, loved child.

I refer to him as…

My boy with kaleidoscope eyes. He had these brilliant, sparkly blue eyes, big and round with different swirls of blue colors, like diamonds they sparkled.    He called me Mama Bear.. He bought me flowers and flowering shrubs. He SERIOUSLY loved food, and sometimes I laugh and remember how he used to hum and sing while he was eating when he was a baby. After he died, I found it so difficult to prepare or eat his favorites. Once a year, his friends come over and I make all his favorite dishes that he loved.

Michael was never alone. He loved having a girlfriend. He was never without one, that’s for sure. He was easy on the eyes. He had perfect skin and a beautiful face. Thick sandy blonde hair, chiseled nose.. my boy, he stopped hearts. He was both handsome and funny.  I was so proud that he was mine.

I had big dreams for this beautiful boy, so did he. He loved fancy, expensive cars, UFC/WWF/Loud Rap music and video gaming. He would talk about the richest rap artists and how many cars they had. He would spot a new pair of kicks or a super new cool hat/cap that he had to have. His taste was expensive. It didn’t always match his wallet. Rich and famous was something he focused a lot of his time on. He wanted to prove his high school teacher wrong. A sarcastic, mean-spirited high school teacher who once pulled him down and  held him under water on a field trip. I think he suffered from the way that teacher treated him. I remember him writing a post about himself. He had dreams and career goals. He truly wanted to succeed and be heard. I was proud of his goals and his vision of becoming somebody great.

Michael struggled with ADHD as a child. He was quite impulsive and hyperactive at times. He had great role models. Successful men in my family who tried to guide him and help him succeed. He had a lot to prove to them and himself. He didn’t go to college. He struggled with finding a career/job that would pay well.

His addiction started from a prescription for Vicodin/Oxy from a work injury. He was 28 or 29 years old at the time. I remember thinking often, God, I’m thankful and grateful that my two kids aren’t drug addicts or alcoholics!  I thought I was so lucky and blessed to have raised two kids without an addiction. Well, I was so wrong about that. You see, he must have been prescribed more pills and developed an addiction. His shame and secrecy were painful for him and he went to great lengths to deny and hide all of it from his family. By then, he had already moved on to street drugs. He was using Heroin. We were in the dark.

He met a girl, and 3 months later she was pregnant and they had a beautiful baby girl, Anna Lisa.  Shortly after Anna Lisa was born, it all came to a head. We found out about his addiction when his girlfriend and baby left him. He was in bad shape. Sick and addicted. Desperate to get well and see his baby. The girlfriend went to court and got custody. Mikey never saw his baby again. Neither did we. He suffered with shame, guilt, loss and addiction.

My son willingly went into detox, treatment centers, rehabs, you name it. He would come out and relapse over and over. He could not beat the monster. Today, I look back and realize how desperately he wanted to get well. He tried every day for over two years. One day, after court, he abruptly decided to move to Maine. His new girlfriend was there. He lived through hell. I watched his light dim. He no longer sparkled. He was in tremendous pain and addiction. He found a sober house and wanted to be close to his new girl. Three weeks later he died from a Heroin/Fentanyl overdose. He went to have Christmas dinner with his aunt and grandma. He died a few hours after he arrived there on Christmas Eve. He had just turned 31 years old a few weeks before. A life cut short. Something we all swallow everyday.

I listened the other day to a podcast about grief. I wrote it down. It best describes what we all face each and every day. I grieve my child, the sunshine of my life.. every day.

“Grief occurs when a dream we have HELD for our life… Ends.”

Michael is and was my dream. He was my first born. My light. My Mikey and I forever honor and miss him each and every day on earth.

In honor of my son, Michael Anthony. A victim of opioid addiction.

~ Forever Loved~ Forever Young.

Submitted by Lisa Lempp, Mother