We lost a son to opioids. ‘We need to stop the hurt’
Life leads us in many directions. I found myself bored with life choices throughout my life. I always made adjustments, changes followed, life went on.
I’ve been so many things in my life, some more rewarding than others. But above all, I was a proud and caring parent to six children. We were a diverse family, two were hers, two were mine, two were ours.
We never separated them; it was six children, growing up together, not one better than the other.
Things weren’t perfect. House was full, always something to do. I worked a full-time job for the state, cut grass and, maybe the most taxing, served in the Army Reserve.
Work happened, children came first, vacations always happened some way. Our life was/is our family, and as long as I live it will remain our priority. I served as a youth baseball president, a coach, a wrestling club member and a president.
I didn’t just send my children to play the game. I was always involved, never pushed responsibility on others. We do all we can to keep our children on the straight and narrow path to a fruitful life. The truth is we can only guide, not dictate the paths that are chosen.
Somewhere in the almost-perfect life, drugs entered the picture.
A child’s addiction is devastating and consumes much of your life.
Jason was our oldest, 14 when our families joined. A move from Whitehall was not what he wanted, and he fought it as much as he could. A straight-A student, he showed none of that after the move. He chose to squeak by, and eventually that wasn’t enough. He never asked for help, never lost his love of sports.
He fathered one child. Jason moved to Pittsburgh, attempted to rebuild his life, fathering another son and eventually returning to a life of drugs.
He died without coming to terms with either of his children.
This pattern of life needs to change. That change can only come from all of us accepting that programs to treat this disease are readily available to all, wherever you live.
My wife and I lost a son to drugs on March 11. That date will always be a day that changed us. But life goes on, and we must accept what has been dealt us.
My wife cries daily. I can’t do that because I’m the strength of the family; I need to be there for whoever needs to lean on me. My grieving is done on my own, yet the hurt is there all the time.
We need to stop the hurt. We need to get the abusers the help they need. We need to stop the not-in-my-neighborhood mentality when somebody wants to put a drug rehabilitation facility in our area. Some of the same people may soon experience this problem in their family.
We need to not look down on people who have experienced this community problem. Sometimes the only positive thing in a child’s life is baseball, softball, track and field, wrestling or any sport or activity.
I am not a genius. I possess a high school diploma, a military education as an infantryman, a medic and an occupational therapy assistant.
I know so many families affected forever by this epidemic — no not COVID-19 — the opioid epidemic. You suffer as we do; my prayers go out to you. I hope your life returns to normal. I know that it is not an overnight process.
Understanding why will not ease the pain, but maybe solving the problem will change the course of this epidemic. I’m writing this to remember my son’s death, but also look for ways to prevent further losses to my family, and any other families.
A loss of a child is a parent’s worst nightmare and it is one that does not easily go away.
Stop the loss now. Do it for your son/daughter, brother/ sister, or a friend, teammate.
You may control somebody’s destiny.
Rest in peace, son Jason Dudeck.
Paul Kisslinger is a Bethlehem resident.