My Beginning Thoughts on Death From Drug Addiction

Recently a famous and heralded actor died from a heroin overdose. Several days later this news is still blaring from my television; and the internet is buzzing about it. Social media was on fire for a day or two with the usual rants. Some saying what a shame; others saying oh well another dope fiend gone. That type of thing. It sturck me how little has changed about the way people perceive drug addiction. That is the shame. Especially in a country that is known for it's so-called "war on drugs". A war that accomplished little except putting many relatively harmless people in jail for years; while leaving the real perpatrators free to roam and prey on our youth and other vunerable people.

The death from drugs of an accomplished person who had everything and more to live for, may help change attitudes. Possibly some day people will see addiction as a disease. Hopefully, one day the desparation of a heroin addcit will be seen for what it really is....Maybe, at some point hospitals, doctors, elected officials, and everyone will understand that the addict had a predisposition to a terrible, terrible disease. That when the disease took it's grip on that person, they were in need of help. Their choice, be it alcohol or heroin, or prescription drugs, may have been almost accidental.  But the choice isn't anything they can escape without medical and psychological help.

In the mean time, people will continue to die unnecesarily.. Our children, our neighbors, our friends. Some of the best and the brightest. Many just ordinary people who are loved.

Snowy Winter Blues

It's snowy and frigid here where I am making my new life. Sometimes I really miss the warm/hot climate where I lived in the plural family. Even if it got cold it never lasted long. I miss the heat. And I miss the little boy who stole my heart.

“If there ever comes a day when we can't be together, keep me in your heart. I'll stay there forever.” 

I said almost those exact words to him once. I am inside  your heart and you are inside mine. He would ask me to repeat it on occasion. I hope, I really, really hope, he remembers that. I hope they haven't contaminated his feelings for me. His brother was older by a few years and we weren't as close; his baby sister was not much more than newborn. He however was two years old and just learning to talk and do the things little boys do, when I moved there. He was and I'm sure is a sweetheart. I don't know why he loved me so, but he did, and his company kept me strong when I needed to be strong. He saved me from wallowing in my depression. He was my only joy during those days. One or two friends helped, but that little boy loved me, wrinkled and bald. And I am just so sorry I never said goodbye.

I am battling winter depression, this I know. But I think this year it's at it's worst. The weather isn't co-operating, and I'm spending a great deal of time alone and doing nothing. I'm not motivated to paint or write. I have a hard enough time starting a simple chore. I have my kids and my grandkids and my sisters; but I don't have one friend that lives nearby. No one to laugh with, have some wine and watch a stupid television show with. No one to shop with, or complain to. I babysit. That is what I do now. Then I go home or send them home, and collapse.

They are my joy now, my beautiful grandchildren. That should be enough I know. But I worry about them, for them and pray they will be fine. They love me and look forward to seeing me. They greet me with open arms and kisses. But I can't fully enjoy it because I am so worried about them. And I'm so depressed about just about everything.  I hope I will be in their hearts forever, because they will be in mine.

I wish I could snap out of this.

Maybe when the sun comes out and melts the snow.