‘Mom, what’s wrong with my uncle?’ He moved on to trying new, stronger drugs. My twin brother died that day.
“I got a call from the police at 5:55 p.m. ‘Are you with anyone? Is there somewhere you can talk?’ My daughter had received a ‘Christmas present,’ a free bag of what she thought was heroin. I fell to my knees in the snow, then rushed over in record time. She was blue-faced. I wanted to hug her, but couldn’t. There was ‘lethal powder’ still on her. She wanted so badly to stay clean.”
“My brother knew he had a problem. He hated it. He hated it so much he stopped it all and moved back home right beside my mom. He told her he wanted to be closer to his family. That he felt so lost without us. He had such a big, kind heart. SO forgiving. Too forgiving. A month before he overdosed, he was baptized. He died with his Bible open right next to him.”