together & alone in grief

last night steve went with me to my first GRASP meeting. we weren't really sure what to expect. from an earlier email correspondence with the group coordinator, i was anticipating only a few other moms. but there were a dozen other people there besides my brother & me. most were mothers, but there were 2 other sisters & 1 other brother. some lost their family member (a majority of which were young males in their early 20s) within the last couple years. one woman lost her son just 2 weeks ago. too many had the unfortunate fate of finding their sons dead.

we arrived about a half hour late so people were already talking. it reminded me of what i imagined an aa meeting would look like: everyone in a circle sitting in varying chairs, a dozen assorted books about grieving on the table in the middle, lots of dunkin donuts coffee, but no cigarettes, having to hold a large stuffed butterfly pillow when you want to speak. it took no time at all for me to feel how horribly sad, but strangely reassuring it was to be surrounded by these other lost strangers who somehow understood exactly what i was experiencing. they could relate going through year after painful year of trying to get their son or daughter help. & clinging onto to each moment of sobriety with so much hope for the fairy tale future you'd envisioned because you could never allow yourself to give up on them. you felt their despair & utter confusion when she decided to start taking drugs again. when they said that he was a good kid, & that she was a loving & caring person, but became lost along the way under the heavy mask of addiction, you knew it was true because you saw the same events unfold before your own eyes. when steven openly compared scottie to peter pan, everyone understood because they, too, once had their own child who never wanted to grow up.

it's incredible how scott seemed so similar to all these other fallen addicts. for so long, i thought that my brother was beyond the norm. i couldn't picture anyone living like him; & i thought it was impossible for him to fit into any group. but then i met so many of his friends who came to say goodbye to scottie for the last time, how they weren't embarrassed by their dirty bodies, pot smelling clothes, & foul language at the hospital. & at the memorial they threw for him at rittenhouse square nearly a week after he died, how they smoked incessantly, drank 40s from paper bags, & reminisced fondly about my brother's uninhibited lifestyle. i knew that he wasn't alone. &  when i heard these women describe their children, i could have sworn they were talking about scottie. they seemed to all have a diagnosed mental illness. they stopped maturing around the time they starting taking drugs; & they were very good at manipulation. there were so many periods of sobriety, & heavy drug use happened quickly & too often surprisingly. each of these souls loved their son, daughter, brother, or sister beyond words. i felt their tears, that have become become a normal part of life. & their utter devotion that hasn't waned since the formidable deaths.

fueled by such openness & empathy, i confessed that coping with scott's death had been difficult with my son harry; how, at times, i wished i could be alone & sit in stillness & wait for scottie, but being a mom to a 1 year old rarely afforded that luxury. as i was divulging these dark revelations, although honest, i was admitting them to women who had recently lost their own sons, who would probably give anything in the world to have their babies back again. & i was struck with such guilt & sadness. i asked for forgiveness. a few women had similar stories to mine, trying, in vain, to make me feel less selfish & horrible. but i continue to feel the regret.

i was asked to come back next week; & god-willing, i will. i pray that through getting to know about addiction & mental illness, i will better understand my brother. i pray that through self-reflection, i will find forgiveness & grace. i pray that through these other beautiful hurting individuals, we can find purpose, peace & ultimate rest.