The Horrible Night and Aftermath

Saturday evening, June 1, 2019, began one of the most difficult journeys my wife Leigh and I have ever experienced, and pray we never have to experience again. We were in Albany visiting our oldest, Anna, and her husband, Doug, and our grandchildren Jessica and Aidan.

About 9:25 in the evening our son, Charles, called me to tell me our son, Mark, was deceased. "Hi Charles." I said. He said "Hi Dad. The ambulance and Sheriff are at your house. Mark is dead." I screamed twice for Leigh, twice for Anna, and threw down the phone. (He later told me he equated this with 'ripping off the band-aid'. Might just as well say it. There is NO easy way.)

There is no easy way to hear that. There is no easy way to process that information, or to share that with the woman you love. Her baby boy, her precious youngest son, Mark, is dead.

We rushed to each other, held each other, cried with each other. The ensuing panic, crying, moaning, wailing, flailing, consumed us both, for hours, and has consumed us now for months. We prayed it wasn't so, that perhaps there was a mistake. Not Mark? Not Mark! All too true, all too gruesome.

We spent the night continually in prayer. There was company at Anna and Doug's house. We remember no one coming or going. We may have dozed in each other's arms for a bit. We prayed the Lord's prayer, said multiple Hail Mary's, and asked for mercy and strength. Neither of us could drive our car home - it is about a five hour drive - we could not focus. I don't even remember packing to come home. Eventually we were back in Clarendon - don't ask me how.

Family came together. There were many tears, hugs, more tears, more hugs, prayers, and then more prayers. Too many questions, not enough answers. Leigh and I sought solace in praying with each other, and alone, and grieving with each other, and alone. Still too many questions, never enough answers. What were we to do? No idea, no concept.

Our children stepped up and took over for their Mother and Father. We who had been so strong and resolute for them over so many years, had no strength of our own. Anna, Charles, Thomas, and Michael stood in our place and took over caring not only for us, but also for Mark. Words cannot express our love for them, and their love for their brother, and for us. What a wonderful woman is our daughter, Anna, and such wonderful men are our sons, Charles, Thomas, Michael, and Mark.

We have come to know we were not alone in our experience of Mark's tragic death. Too many other of people's loved ones have died from the poison of fentanyl. Too many others have experienced, and continue to experience, the devastating grief of death from overdose. There is even a Facebook group for those who have had this unlucky experience - GRASP - Grieve Recovery After a Substance Passing - GRASP on the Web.

Leigh and I have been tested even more in this horrid aftermath.

We had questions about Mark's eternal soul, but have received confirmation he is in heaven. (More on this in another post.)

We have had to meet with the District Attorney and Sheriff. Thank God for these good men. A challenging experience has been to see the individuals charged in Mark's death in court. Two From Holley To see these 'people' and know they have such a callous disregard for another's life is still beyond understanding. Their sentencing is still to come on December 19th.

We pray for justice, but realize there can NEVER be true justice, only a false sense of retribution. They will continue to live for as long as the Lord gives them. We will NEVER see our Mark again this side of glory. We pray the memories, pictures, and stories will never, ever fade.

Some days we struggle for each breath, the pain of grief burns our lungs, our throats. It consumes us many days, in sleepless nights, often in no motivation.

We console ourselves with the knowledge of our other children, and grandchildren. We love them all dearly.

One is missing, one is gone, ripped needlessly from our lives, the lives of his sister, brothers, nieces, nephews, cousins, the entire family and community.

We understand now, fully, the pain each parent feels who loses a child.