THE FATHER'S STORY
My son Michael was intelligent, athletic and highly motivated. He graduated from a prestigious college, where he excelled at his studies in real estate underwriting and captained the varsity tennis team. He had a lot going for him, and any parent would be proud of such a kid. He started smoking marijuana and taking some pills somewhere along the line, but I detected no symptoms of a serious problem. After college, he struggled for two years to find the right job, but without success, leaving him discouraged and depressed. My wife and I went through a contentious divorce, too, testing him and my daughter to the max.
Then I noticed a change in his attitude and his actions. He seemed more anxious in the face of such pressure to succeed. He lost weight. His intense ambition to make something of himself was suddenly missing. The pills became more serious.
That’s when I believe the demons took hold of him. Heroin became his devil. And he turned into a different person.
My son and I were always close. We rode bikes together, skied together, played tennis together, saw movies together. We talked at the dinner table about everything that mattered to us, including our family. He was my friend and my roommate. We could level with each other about whatever we had on our minds.
Michael came to me and admitted he no longer knew who he was. “I need help,” he said. He felt guilty and ashamed about what was happening to him. So we discussed some potential solutions.
I was going to support him with everything I had to give. I pushed for him to enter a treatment program and stay in a rehab center for however long it took. But he objected, worried he would lose his job.
By now he had worked for 18 months straight at a job he loved, putting in late nights and weekends. He was a management executive in a large foreign bank underwriting real estate. He had earned respect from his peers.
We decided he would join an outpatient program. He took a positive attitude, determined to succeed. I went with him twice to meet with the founder of the program. Everyone on hand communicated so openly and honestly that I felt certain he would regain the power to choose right over wrong. We both felt we had gotten on the right path.
Michael underwent counseling and took “cocktails” to detox — medications for depression, anxiety and insomnia, among others. Daily testing confirmed that he was heroin-free.
But now his problems at his job mounted. He would come in late, miss important deadlines and take twohour lunches to appear at his rehab program. One morning his boss fired him. That night, at 3 a.m., I hugged and kissed him goodnight, reminding him he could always find another job, but I had only one son.
Still devastated, Michael went out and unintentionally overdosed. At 10 the next morning, I found his lifeless body.
Ten months later, I cry and pray every day. I miss him so much. This is the first time I’ve put my emotions in writing.
I still have the sense that my daughter and I could have and should have done more. But in reality I have no idea what else we could have done.
My advice to parents, siblings and friends in a similar situation? Be aware of the warning signs, such as changes in behavior and physical appearance. Be vigilant. Show you care. Be supportive. Bear in mind that pot is a gateway drug. Seek advice. Get help.
May no other parent know such pain as mine. My prayers are with you.