Below is a post from Clint's mother. She is a long time friend and her son died last Sunday from a heroin overdose.
Good Friday morning to everyone here. I am Clint's Mom and Darlene's childhood friend who not only lived in the same neighborhood, but worshiped at the same church. We both got married after high school and then had children. We both tried to raise our children to be smart and successful members of society.
As Ron pointed out, I suffered and endured this pain alone for many years and lost touch with many friends in trying desperately to hide the dance with the monster. A few years ago, we had dinner with Darlene and Ron and they shared their story with my husband and I. I finally admitted to them for the first time that Clint was in trouble.
It is a deep dark secret that you don't want to share with casual friends and acquaintances. You don't want anyone to know that you are struggling. You want to appear normal, happy and be proud of you children. It begins to eat away at your emotional and physical health. Each trip to the emergency room, each trip to rehab, each trip to prison for visitation. You hold on to hope by your fingernails while locking you emotions away from the public.
I lost contact with my son just before Christmas. I called him on Christmas Day to invite him to the family gathering. He told me he didn't feel very Christmassy. I assumed he didn't have money to buy gifts and decided to sit out the celebration. I let it go and forgave him. The following weekend I called to ask him if he wanted to get together, but he declined and said he was tired. I knew he was working two jobs so I forgave him and let it go. Last weekend I was in front of his apartment and called to ask if he wanted company, but he said no he wasn't feeling well. I let it go and forgave him.
The very next day two detectives came to my door, asked to come in, and asked me to sit down and told me my son passed away.
I am so used to locking my emotions away I didn't even cry because I knew I had to contact family and arrange a funeral. I knew things had to get done. It was only when I heard my own voice telling people I love that my son passed away that it really hit me. I couldn't speak. I was hanging on to sanity with my fingernails while being swallowed in a deep pain in my heart and soul that almost took away any hope I had left.
I put that aside and began to contact the funeral home, apartment manager, cleaned out the apartment, stayed busy until the funeral was over. And now all I feel is silence, numbness, and the pain in my heart and soul for my only son that I can never hug and kiss again and his birthday is tomorrow.
I am fortunate to have a job and people who love me. I am thankful that I can go back to work on Monday and once again lock away the emotions that are tormenting me. Staying busy is the only way I know how to survive. Stay busy and don't think about it.
I want to thank God for Darlene and Ron, for being there for me. I want to wish anyone who reads this to know that you are not alone. You don't have to be alone. We can get through this together. Inch by inch anything is a cinch. Mile by mile it takes awhile. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other and keep moving forward.