I invite you to explore my site to learn more. In 2022, I decided to share it all in my memoir, Life After Kevin A Mother’s Search for Peace and the Golden Retrievers that Led the Way.As I wrote the book, I kept you in mind with the sincere hope that you find peace along your own journey by walking along with me on mine. One of the best parts I found through my journey is that we can be active participants in our own healing. I also wanted to spread hope in knowing that you can connect with your loved ones and that finding peace and purpose after loss is possible. I wanted to shine a light on the stigma surrounding overdose to create understanding and empathy toward those grieving a stigmatized loss. I started thinking maybe my story could be helpful to someone else. I knew I couldn’t be the only one feeling like this.
I could keep hiding (which was clearly not working for me) or I could start talking about it. And for two years, I was inadvertently feeding my shame with the 3 things it needed to flourish: judgment, silence, and secrecy. As a result, I kept his cause of death a secret for 2 years- from my parents, family, friends- everyone. How could I not know he had used opioids? I was his Mom, how could I have let this happen? At what point did I do the wrong thing? The shame I felt toward myself was as if I had made some fatal error as a parent.
These seemingly innocent questions would have me stumbling around trying to come up with a vague answer like “We aren’t really sure…” About 98% of the time it would be met with “Oh my God, I am so sorry” with a brief pause before the questions, “What happened?” and “How did he die?” would start. Would my son only be remembered by how he died? If I did share that he had died, I would deliberately leave out the cause of death. The stigma surrounding overdose was everywhere. I remember wondering if my life was just going to be something to endure. When the toxicology report came back listing the cause of death as multiple drug intoxication I felt utterly alone. His death left me feeling broken beyond repair. I was 48 when my son Kevin died unexpectedly. The loss of a loved one ranks right at the top of life’s stressors. When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves ~ Viktor FranklĪt some point, we will experience challenges in our personal life.
Please see my Speaker Sheet for more information. Today, I speak about what I’ve learned since Kevin’s passing to spread awareness on how we can better support those who have been touched by overdose, ways we can stay connected to our deceased loved ones, and what I’ve learned about living and grieving well. Readers will be inspired and left knowing that life after loss can include hope, peace, and purpose. It is an invitation to explore what it means to receive comfort from what cannot be explained with logic, such as signs from across the veil and the unconditional love from our dogs. My award-winning memoir, Life After Kevin, illustrates what leaning into grief looks like. I needed to give my grief the attention it deserved. Since then, I’ve learned that healing after loss, and getting to a place of peace, required my participation. When my 25-year-old son Kevin died from an overdose in 2015, I was faced with the most difficult experience a parent can imagine. You can never know at what point your memories will need to last a lifetime.
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