I Guess I’m Not the Fighting Kind…


Inwavesitcomessuddenly

I’mcompletelyenvelopedevenbeforeIrealize

strugglingtoholdmyselfaboveitallweight

balancedonthetipsofmytoesneckstretched

strainedfacetiltedupnosejustabovetheline

I breathe

then     just as it comes

 it leaves      me           spent

wondering

when it will come again             

“…I was fighting
But I just feel too tired
To be fighting
Guess I’m not the fighting kind
Wouldn’t mind it
If you were by my side…”

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One Year


I love you.

I never could have imagined 19 years ago that things would turn out as they have.  If I could go back, knowing what I know now, I would do things very differently…but I can’t…

What disheartens me the most is the pain and distress you must have felt  throughout your young life.  How alone you must have felt with a father that abandoned you, a religion that isolated you, a mother that left you, a step-father that wasn’t there, a narcissistic extended family that hardly bothered, and a brother and sister that looked nothing like you.  How alone you must have felt even when surrounded by others.  Everyone that should have mattered failed you.  I recognize and I will always know my part in your demise.   You were robbed of the life you should have lived by those that should have been there for you, starting with me.  You had no one by your side to help you understand the world and to give you the proper tools to navigate through life.  I’m saddened to think that you felt as if nobody cared about you, and I’m ashamed to recognize that in a sense nobody, including myself, cared enough.

So it’s not surprising to me that you clung to anyone that gave you the attention you desperately craved, even if it meant being kept in the basement by the person that “loved” you.  It’s not surprising that you tried different ways to relieve your despair…including drugs.  It seems that nothing else was working for you at the time.

Those that lose children to a drug overdose are different from other parents that lose a child.  Most parents that lose children have little if anything to do with their children’s death.  Cancer is cancer.  Accidents happen.  But drug addiction and death by overdose is different isn’t it?  It involves parent participation, or lack thereof.

You are the victim in this scenario…not me or anyone else.  If anything, we are the perpetrators.  True, I can be seen as a father that lost a daughter to prescription drugs, and on the surface that’s what I am.  But if I take a deep look beyond the surface of it all, I can see my contribution. Before I let any emotion arise in me that may make me feel as a victim, I consciously remind myself of my role in your despair and in your death.  I think about how I fell short of being a father to you, and how my absence affected your well being.  I have failed.  In this way, before I allow myself the privilege of any other emotion beside love, I feel shame…

You will always be in my heart.

I love you forever.

Steven Levitt: The freakonomics of McDonalds vs. drugs


Freakonomics author Steven Levitt presents new data on the finances of drug dealing. Contrary to popular myth, he says, being a street-corner crack dealer isn’t lucrative: It pays below minimum wage. And your boss can kill you.

Prevent! Who’s the most powerful influence in your child’s life? You, that’s who.


Parents have more influence over their child than friends, music, TV, the Internet and celebrities.

Learn more about preventing a drug or alcohol problem with your child at THE PARTNERSHIP AT DRUGFREE.ORG