This Side of the Clouds

photo (20)It’s a beautiful summer day in Kentucky. Weather is in the 70’s with a breeze. The sun is peeking in and out from behind the clouds. My property is a little over an acre. I have a hammock that sits out in the middle of my backyard of mostly grass. I walked out to the yard and laid on my hammock today.

I found myself staring at the crisp white clouds floating in the blue sky. I thought of how far that sky goes past those clouds. I thought of Riley and then I thought, Is heaven up there? Is he up there? We usually look up for heaven. Where is heaven? Then I started talking to him.

I said, “Riley, I am sorry this happened to you.” I pictured his face, his long blonde hair, his smile and my bottom lip started that quiver that I know so well now. The tears came for a few minutes like a cleanse. It happens like that a lot. One thought, one memory of Riley causes water flowing down my cheeks. It was only a few tears this time. Sometimes that is all I need. I kept staring at the clouds.

I truly am sorry. It shouldn’t have happened. He didn’t plan for it to happen. He thought he was doing something cool on his 18th birthday. He didn’t know. He couldn’t have known that his first try of acid would end like that. That he would die.

I wish he hadn’t tried the acid alone. I wish he hadn’t tried it at all. I wish the person that made the tab hadn’t screwed up. I wish that the little weasel that bought it online and sold it to him wasn’t still walking around and dealing. The kids at school knew who sold it to him. There was a hush and whispering as he showed up at the memorial and as he sat there at the funeral. How does he live with himself I wonder. I want him to stop selling. I fear for other teens lives that buy from him.

I wish LSD wasn’t being made or being sold period. I wish kids realized they don’t know what they are buying. They have poison in their hands. So many teens are dieing on the first try of a drug. They are dropping dead. Teens like Riley, like Montana, like Sam  who went looking for something to do on a weekend, looking for a high.

This is the deal…..Drugs kill. There is so much crap out there. Even pot can be laced with other drugs. What you think you are buying is probably not what you are getting. Synthetic weed is killing teens like Connor. It is still legal in many states and sold in convenience stores. Teens are dieing. Dead. Gone because of a chase of a high. It may sound fun at the time. Of course they don’t want to or plan to die. These teens had things to do the next day, things they were looking forward to.

As I find my high in other ways, I wish our teens would learn to do the same. There is so much around us to enjoy. To make our hearts skip a beat, to feel light, free, excited.  For me it is the cool breeze on my face, the sun shining,  the dirt under my fingernails, the skip of my heart when I climb a tree or dance with no one looking. I like the feeling of finishing a good book, good food, a good laugh, an intense conversation, and winning an argument.

What makes your heart skip a beat? Do that. Not drugs. Skip the drugs, put them away, get help if you need it. Live, Laugh, Love… Grow, Be challenged. Don’t die. Live Please Live.

I’m sorry Riley that this happened to you. You should be here laughing, shaking your head at me, being irritated at my constant questions while asking for a back scratch. You should be laying with me on my hammock having a good long talk about where heaven is. I miss you. I wish you were here. You should be playing your guitar under the blue sky – on this side of the clouds.

I Love You, Riley.

 

The Parent’s Reach

430023_3460963532894_988690135_n As responsible parents, we set out to keep our children safe, happy, and healthy. We bundle them up in cold weather before they step out the door. We slather them with sunscreen on hot days by the pool. We make sure they do their homework, have their seat belts on, get a good night’s rest, eat their vegetables, and lecture them on everything from “Don’t touch it’s hot” to “Drugs are bad for you”. I did that. I watched over my children like a hawk. They were my job. I took my job seriously working at it 7 days a week/24 hours a day. I was ready and waiting to spot a need I should fill in my pursuit to keep my children safe, happy and healthy.

I missed something. I do not know what I could have done different. Riley was healthy and happy. I thought I had done everything within my power to keep him safe. I think that I did.

Known for his Hawaiian shirts, purple vans, long blonde hair, acoustic guitar, warm smile and big bear hugs- he knew no strangers. He left lasting impressions with whomever he met by his whimsical demeanor and love for intense conversation about music, religion, politics and philosophy. Riley was smart. He was a computer guru. He was raised in a Christian home. He attended a Christian grade school. He was about to graduate from high school. He had been accepted to NAU. He had played in the high school band for three years. He sang in the high school choir his senior year. Oh how I loved watching him sing. He had a girlfriend. He was a musician with a love for all kinds of music. He played guitar, piano, saxophone and tuba. I sat quietly every chance I had to listen to him play his guitar.  He had interests, passions, plans for his future. He had so much to give and he did give.

He gave to the girl who was a stranger huddled along a wall in the school halls crying about her cat dying by making a comment that resulted in a conversation, a smile and a friendship. He stood in between a girl and bullies at school. He eased the apprehension of a new girl’s first day in class. He talked a boy out of suicide. He was a source of encouragement for the classmate that was pregnant. He helped his peers accept themselves as who they were- in their unique molds of different shapes, sizes, abilities and talents. He taught people to love….to love themselves and others. He gave the gift of laughter – smiles and the experience of a warm heartfelt hug. The kind of hug where he lifted you off your feet and held you tight. I often asked for Riley’s hugs myself.

On Riley’s 18th birthday, May 3, 2014, Riley tried acid/LSD for the first time. He bought the drug from a boy at school, a choir member who had bought it online. He sent out a snap chat of the tab on his tongue. He wrote of feeling joy at the beginning of the trip. Many hours later, he reached out to a boy who said to call him if he got into trouble. The boy did not answer. A girl sent him a “Happy Birthday” text. He replied, “On Acid” and then another, “Halp” (spelled like that). Not long after that, during an acid trip that must have turned very bad, worse than I like to imagine, Riley took a gun and shot himself.

Riley came into this world and left on the same date. Forever 18. A birthday dinner was planned for later that night. Presents for him were left wrapped not ever to be opened. Riley was gone in an instant by his decision to try a drug for the first time. Riley was a typical teen- he thought he was invincible. He was not invincible.

Only 30 hours before Riley put the tab on his tongue, he and I sat at the kitchen table together and talked about drugs. He brought the subject up. We talked about making smart choices, how dangerous drugs were and the possible consequences of drug use. This was a subject that we had discussed many times before. He assured me that we were on the same page. Yet now I know that he had already bought the acid when he sat down to talk to me.

The toxicology report showed that Riley had 5 times the amount of LSD in his system than what he thought he had bought. It was the highest amount that the medical examiner had seen in his 30 year career. Someone up the line of where the drug came from, whoever made it, messed up.

With all my know how, I attempted to keep my son safe. My reach, my arms enveloping him trying to protect him only worked so far into his life. Our children have opportunities to make decisions. Riley paid the consequences of the decision that he made to try acid.  A decision that I am sure if he could, he would make differently. My hope is that Riley’s story is repeated over and over. That the message is clear to those that hear it…Drugs kill.

As the school year ends, as summer break begins, the drug use and partying will be ramping up. More teens start drinking alcohol, smoke cigarettes, try drugs in the months of June and July than any other month of the year. Here we are approaching June in only a few days.

My hope is that teens hear Riley’s story, think twice and in turn make a different choice when given the opportunity to try a drug. My hope is that Riley’s story is repeated in the work place, in the classroom, at the kitchen table- that a parent hears his story and repeats it to their child.

If Riley’s story can save just one life, then we’ve made a difference.

Tell Riley’s story.

I Love You, Riley.

There’s No Rewriting History

Push the Save Draft ButtonI lost a blog that I spent all afternoon pouring myself into. I spent hours on it and when I went to save it, I lost it completely. No drafts available. No automatic saves appear. It’s as if I didn’t even type at all today. Nothing. It’s gone. I used great vocabulary and symbolism. It was a good one.  I was happy with it and about ready to publish it.

Can I describe it again? Maybe. Can I rewrite it like it was? No. Do I want to drag all the feelings and thoughts up to try again? No! I don’t think so. I don’t think I can reproduce it again from scratch with the heart and soul I put into it in the moment.

Note to self: Remember to push ‘Save Draft’.

In frustration, I got up from my computer, drug my hammock out to the middle of my grass. I laid flat in the cool evening air staring up at the moon lit cloud ridden sky. I was there to relax after spilling all that out about Riley and my grief. As soon as I laid down and looked up, I thought of Riley. It didn’t take long until my bottom lip started quivering. I let it out- loudly. I cried. I let the sobs and screams pour out of me right there with the bugs buzzing and the mysterious critters out there  in the dark watching me. I wish I could see past the clouds to see Riley. What I would give to see him again. Touch him again. Laugh with him again. I cannot.

Note to you: Remember to push ‘Save Draft’. We can’t rewrite history. Make it count.

Don’t take anything for granted.  None of it. Savor every moment with your child. That includes the uncomfortable and hard times. The moments of disappointment. The fun times. The awe moments. The sad moments. The proud moments. The scary moments. The still and quiet moments. The rush of life moments. Enjoy their firsts and their lasts. Enjoy the joy and laughter together. All of these make up your relationship, they help you know your child better…they are the memories you can’t make again.

Take your job as parent seriously- don’t let up. Make sure you are Preaching it. Teaching it. Sharing it. Whether they act like they are listening or not, say it. Ask the question whether they roll their eyes at you and give you that look. Be the example. If you expect it from your child you best be doing the same.

Ya know Riley was an amazing kid. Gifted. Talented. Smart. Full of potential. He made this world better by being in it. What did I miss? He made a bad decision. I can’t do anything differently. I can’t go back. The memories and moments are all I have now. We can’t make more together.

One of my memories is a little song I sang to my kids when they were little. My Mom sang it to me. It always produced a giggle. It goes, “Head bumper, eye winker, tom tinker, nose smeller, mouth eater, chin chopper and a gitty gitty gitty goo.” I am remembering Riley’s eyes opened wide at what I was saying when touching his nose smeller and his laugh when he was tickled with the gitty gitty gitty goo. I miss his smile with the dimple in his left cheek just like mine.

I want to have another shot at an argument with him. I can make my point better now. I want to finish ten conversations that we started. I think to tell him things. He’s not there. I have so many questions I wish I could ask. Simple ones…What do you like best about___? What is your favorite____?  I cannot ask now.

I want to tell him what I know now about the drugs that are out there. What I know now about LSD. I want to have that conversation about legalizing marijuana again. I want to have said something different the night we talked about drugs just days before he died. I gave him the information that I had at the time. I assumed we were on the same page. He said we were.  He lied. We weren’t.  It’s too late to make my points stronger, better, to try to change his mind though I didn’t know what he was thinking at the time.

We can’t go back. We can’t rewrite history. We can’t change the outcome. We as parents can only do our best with the knowledge we have. Make sure you have accurate and current knowledge. Do your homework about drugs and drug use. Know about the risks of addiction and talk about it with your teens. Know what you are talking about. Share it with your teens. Watch for the signs of drug use.

Hug and kiss your kids. Enjoy them to the fullest. Tell them you love them. Live in the moment for that moment may be all you have.

I Love You, Riley.

Can We Have One More?

filename-1 (4)1Next Sunday, May 3rd is Riley’s birthday and the anniversary of his death. It feels like a countdown. I am already very uncomfortable knowing it is coming. There are a boat load of good memories of raising Riley. Eighteen years worth to be exact. Yet I cannot seem to be able to reach them all yet. It is like my brain has put up a road block that says you can’t handle them all at this time. I’m not pushing it. I can wait. They are there to be reflected on for the rest of my life. I’ll let my brain take it’s time.

On a summer day in 1995 while watching my 5-year-old and 3-year-old in the play pool in our backyard, I had a thought. The thought continued as I smiled content while they sat at their plastic table on the patio dripping wet from the pool eating the lunch I had made for them. The thought percolated for the rest of the day even when I was saying, “Do not draw on that table!” “Give it back to your brother.” Even while I was thinking Why do I bother to shut the door as Braden laid on the bathroom floor talking through that gap between door and floor saying, “Mom. Mom. Mom.” That night after our dinner for four, after tucking the kids into their beds,  after we had covered our day’s events, I took a deep breath looked at Greg and blurted it out, “Can we have one more?”

Three children instead of two sounded good. The two children we had brought into this world were perfect one girl, one boy, yet when I thought about family holidays in the future, I pictured the more the merrier. We needed more grandchildren to spoil and to climb into our laps. I was still young, the kids were still young yet I was thinking ahead. Three children sounded good.

Greg’s reply was, “Wait, What?, Whoa…Hmm, OK.” Ok I really don’t remember what he said but it was probably a conversation that had a Wait, a What? a Whoa followed by some thought and a whole-hearted agreement. I think that process of thinking on his part didn’t take any longer than mine. It sounded right to both of us to have one more.

I decided that if I could have my wish, I would deliver before the heat of an Arizona summer. I knew I would be happy with a boy or a girl but from the start I imagined a boy. We believed God had a plan if it would happen, the timing if it did, and the sex of the child. We asked God for a healthy child. Greg and I started trying for one more.

I found out I was pregnant while Greg and the kids were in Oregon visiting his family. I couldn’t wait til he got home to tell him so I told him over the phone. It was meant to be. He was excited. I was excited. The kids were excited. There would be dinner for five now. We started preparing for one more.

When I was pregnant with Bria, I imagined delivering a chubby blonde boy who was like his Dad.  Bria was a gorgeous baby girl with rose bud lips and big blue eyes. Braden was a handsome baby boy with a full head of dark hair and an easy sweet demeanor. We decided that the baby’s name would be Riley if it were a boy or a girl. We were going to have one more.

Riley Reed Peterson was delivered at 9:30 pm after my water breaking hours before with a rush to the hospital only to find out we weren’t even close. After some time, they induced me. As Greg sat by my side holding my hand while watching a Phoenix Sun’s playoff basketball game, the contractions got closer and the grip of my hand in his got tighter.  In due time, I delivered my smallest baby in size of 7 lbs 7 oz with dark hair and a loud cry. He was perfect. We had one more.

We welcomed Riley into our lives with tears of joy and pride. We said goodbye to Riley with the same tears of pride and joy for having had one more.

I Love You, Riley.

When Doves Fly

photo 2 (13)Spring is in the air. The grass is a lush green. There are buds of leaves springing on the trees. Overnight the scenery around me changes. I go to sleep with bare bushes and wake up to green, purple, and white buds blossoming. The pastures are a deep green with wild flowers and dandelions, the sky is blue and I am breathing fresh cool air. The birds are singing. This is all so refreshing. I have lived here six months. It is a new season to experience and I am ready for it.

Riley is on my mind. I have had a break from crying the last few weeks. I have had an uncanny sense of calm. I can’t really explain why. I’m fighting some anger these days about Riley’s case and the situation of his death, but not even that has dug into my gutt. I’m busy with work. I’m not sure exactly why I am calm. I’m not going to complain.

photo 3 (11)I am in tune to the birds here. It has made me think of a dove that appeared on my balcony during the time right after Riley died. I had lived there a year and had not seen one there before. I was alone on my couch crying and overwhelmed with my grief. I was wishing it wasn’t true- that it was all a bad dream.The dove appeared and stayed for two days. It flew back and forth from one side of the balcony to the other. When I rolled over to cry more, it would bump into the sliding glass door making sure I knew it was there.  It perched, it cooed and it stared at me through the window. I went to sleep, I woke up and it was still there.

About then I decided I needed to keep moving. I had to stand up. I had to dig for my strength. I have just kept breathing and putting one foot in front of the other since. I cry when I need to cry. I yell into the empty space when I feel anger. I get it out. I talk to Riley and tell him that I love him every time he passes through my mind. I am facing my grief. All of the ups and downs, the lulls and the storm of emotions and I have found I am remarkably still standing as we near the one year mark.

A dove has recently started nesting in my gutter on my front porch of my log cabin here in Kentucky. It isphoto 3 (10) raining. Even in the rain, she does not move. She looks at me. The sounds of Bert clunking around underneath her does not disturb her. The mail woman who drove up my driveway to give me a package did not make her budge. She remains steadfast and still. She is protecting what is growing beneath her.

Doves bring peace. They are rare amongst birds in that they produce their own milk to feed their young. They cease foraging before their babies are born to ensure the milk is pure. This is a sacrifice for their young. This is nurturing and motherhood. They represent care, devotion, and purity. In the midst of battle and conflict, the dove is a symbol of peace that will come. The cooing of a dove is lulling and calming. The dove is representative of unconditional love. It is believed that when a dove is seen flying it means a soul has been released from earth.

Riley’s soul is not here anymore. It has been released. I will continue to fight this fight for Riley. This I can do for him.

My son is gone because of a first time try of acid/LSD. He is gone because blood sucking, money hoarding human beings are behind making these drugs that are bought online. Someone messed up making the tab Riley bought from the high school dealer. A tab with the highest amount of LSD the medical examiner had seen in one body in his 30 year career. One try of LSD took my child. He couldn’t have, wouldn’t have known this outcome. I know that he would go back and make a different choice if he could. He cannot.

Choices have consequences. I beg teens to make smart choices. Think before you act. Know that you are not invincible. Riley’s death is proof of that. Save your parents from this pain. Don’t mess with drugs. Step away from whatever pressure you feel to try or to continue using. That’s whatever drug is in front of you. Be different. Stay alive. Think about Riley.

I Love You, Riley.

 

 

 

Age Is Mind Over Matter


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I have turned 50. What have I learned in 50 years on this earth? It’s all about how you look at it. You can only find happy and contentment from within. You can’t change people. People will disappoint you. Just when you think that person would never…you find out they did. Just because it looks one way, doesn’t mean that it is. You think you are safe, you’re not. Open your mind. Be still. Grief is individual. Life is short don’t waste a minute. Roll with the punches and stand back up.

Age is mind over matter. I forget that I am as old as I am. My mind and body don’t match up. I am still growing up.  50 years on this earth. I’m just now starting to live in a way I never imagined was possible with so much new around me. I was set in a life that was pretty good, but I stepped out on a ledge and dove head first. I was stomping in puddles and climbing trees with a newfound freedom of being me and then Riley died. That shook up my world to a point I never could have imagined. I am changed forever yet my insides are still there cooking, bubbling up and being fed in unexpected ways. Finding joy again is in the future they tell me.

Grief is a son of a bitch. I want my youngest son back. I don’t want the 50 years back. I don’t want to go back. I wouldn’t change a thing about my life to this point and I can’t change what happened to Riley. It is done. He is gone. Makes me angry. Makes me hurt beyond belief. The pain makes me want to quit and die too. It is true. But I want to see what happens next in my life. I just wish he had a life. I had planned to see him graduate from college, marry, have kids. I wanted to see what he would become, what he got to do, the life he would create. Yet, his life stopped. Mine continues.

As I am about to write a big check to the IRS which pisses me off, as I wonder about my income and my future.  As I worry about making the right decisions as I make them on my own for the first time ever. I wonder what will my life look like ahead. I don’t know. I have one less child on earth. I have two more really great children who have whole lives ahead. I can’t wait to see what they do with theirs as their journeys continue. What will I do with mine? Why make plans? They change and get broken. How about I just go with it and trust life will take me where I am supposed to be. God knows.

This morning as I eat blueberry cream pie for breakfast. As I suffer from the sugar high that is on its way, I have to be thankful for 50 years lived. That includes the disappointment and severe inner pain. I will sit back and ride this life as it unfolds. Life is a journey. I know that more than ever. There are pit stops and corners to turn. I don’t know what the next 50 years will hold. I am hoping there are that many years to experience. I’m looking forward to joy, happy, healthy and watching my children’s lives unfold with joy being happy and healthy.

I’m looking forward to overcoming the challenges that I face right now and then meeting the new ones along the way. I can do this life. I know I can. It is a little emptier, a little lonelier and very unsure. Challenges create growth and I’m up for growth. I am more confident in myself than I have ever been. I am writing when I only dreamed of writing. I am living on my own when I only dreamed of living this way.

I am stronger than I ever thought. I am stronger than I wish I had to be. But it seems to be part of my journey is to face the unthinkable and to keep standing. It is all about mind over matter. So here’s to 50 years lived and 50 more!

I Love You, Riley.

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