drugs

A Colorful Sky

/ djuanadreed / Leave a comment

92098106_slideshow_3Fourth of July is one of my most favorite holidays. This holiday means red, white and blue, a family gathering, a cook out, homemade ice cream, and colorful explosions of fireworks in the sky. I have vivid memories of being in the back of my Dad’s pick up truck parked up on Hole in the Rock at Papago Park watching the fireworks. After dinner, Mom made homemade ice cream every year. It was a noisy old electric ice cream maker. She would set up on the walk way outside of the back door of our house with blocks of ice, an ice pick and a bag of rock salt. The ice cream maker turned and turned with a hum. The salty water ran out of the side of the ice cream maker to the grass. We anxiously waited and watched until the first batch was done so that we could each get a bowl full. There’s nothing else like sweet, cold homemade ice cream. Hot summers in Arizona in July scream for ice cream.

I have pictures of  Bria, Braden and Riley dressed in red, white and blue outfits for Fourth of July. Yes, I was one of those moms. I wish I was home to dig through pictures for a picture of all three kids dressed up to celebrate the day. I think I let that part of the tradition of Fourth of July go before Riley got much older than preschool age.  The things we moms put our kids through. Okay I’ll speak for myself, ‘Oh the things I put my kids through’. Bria’s first Fourth of July we put her down on the grass to stand. She freaked out over the feel of grass on her bare feet. She cried as she drew her legs up. That was a new experience for her as a baby. I am about grabbing new experiences at this point in my life  and I am doing pretty well at it. It is the simple things that happen or become available to me to experience that are the best.

Riley must have had an idea that he needed a new experience on his 18th birthday. His idea that a drug could do what something else could have bugs the heck out of me.  He had many new experiences ahead starting with being an 18 year old along with many more moments of high school graduation and stepping onto NAU’s campus. He missed out on dorm life,  floundering in college, a career, being married, having babies that I as a Grandma could have dressed up in red, white and blue for this holiday. That’s just a few of the major experiences that could have been ahead for him.  My body instantly reacts with a  jump every time I think of the last few seconds of his life. I hate the thought more than you can imagine. His last experience.

r_223_1I want to enjoy Fourth of July this year. I will be thinking of the times with Riley that he and I sat together looking up at the fireworks. I want to enjoy the new and also familiar experiences of Fourth of July this year.  Riley said to me very recently that he missed Grandma’s cooking. My Mom died over 5 years ago. I like the thought of them being together now. Tonight Riley and my Mom could reminisce about making homemade ice cream while they sit in their extra special seat to view fireworks. I think colorful fireworks in the sky just took on a whole new meaning to me. I’ll miss the sweet homemade ice cream intensely this year. I will miss my sweet baby boy even more.

I love you, Riley. 

 

 

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Holding On

/ djuanadreed / 7 Comments


553526_10200224202354833_964369943_n0They say God doesn’t give you more than you can handle.  I have now had my fill of what I can handle. I am dangling by a thin thread by one hand saying out loud to God, “No more! Can this family have a break? I am worn out.  I don’t think I can handle one bit more.” More challenges that are out of my control have come this week.  I am not made of steel. I am strong. I know I am, but this is all too stinkin’ much. I’m getting smooshed under the weight of it all.

Riley’s pictures hurt now.  There is an ache that comes over me when I see his face smiling behind a magnet on the refrigerator.  I can be rushing through the kitchen and there he is smiling at me. I lose my breath when I see his face sometimes. I can be on the phone, look over at his picture sitting on the shelf on the bookcase and I forget the whole conversation while tears well up in my eyes. I want to kiss his cheek and touch him. I can’t. Riley won’t come into a room again smiling and say “Hi” the way that he did. He’s not going to kick his purple and gray Vans off at the bottom of the stairs before he climbs them. He won’t leave a dirty dish on the counter again. I now miss all of those times that I picked a dish up shaking my head thinking Riley, how hard is it to pick the plate up and put it in the sink? There are no dirty clothes waiting for me to wash for him.  His bedroom door remains shut. He’s not behind that bedroom door sleeping.

Riley was not a morning person. He was grumpy in the mornings when he was woke up. I didn’t like grumpy so I was willing to give him space as long he got up. Sometimes it took more than one time to stick my head in the door and say, “Riley, get up!”  What I would do to deal with Smiley Riley’s grumpy morning demeanor. I would give anything to see him open up that bedroom door. I want to pick up one of his dirty dishes on the counter and move it to the sink for him.  I want to wash and fold his clothes for him. I really honestly do. I want to grab on to him and hug him tight. I want to sit by him, put my arm through his and breath the same air of Riley Reed Peterson. My son. My love. I can’t.

I have lost my sweet baby boy to drugs.  I HATE DRUGS!

I am told there is no timeline or correct course in grief. I know there are stages of grief and I think I am already barreling through them. I hear that I will bounce from one stage to the other and I could repeat them. I do know that I must allow myself to feel the pain. The grief counselor told me that I am doing okay. I don’t feel like I am doing okay today.  It is hard work, this life of grief that got dumped on me and I’m barely into it. I have a life time ahead of feeling the pain of losing my child. I know there is a rope within my reach from this thin thread. I will put two hands on it and I will hold on.

Share Riley’s story, please. Riley was a good kid that made a wrong decision. I am hoping that there is a kid out there that will hear Riley’s story and in turn, will make a different decision so that he or she can kick off their shoes, leave dirty dishes on the counter, and dirty up clothes so that their Mom or Dad can continue to have the privilege of putting their dirty dish in the sink, to wash and fold their laundry, to kiss, to touch and to hold them.

I Love You, Riley.

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Coffee, Money and Love

/ djuanadreed / 2 Comments

IMG_5253-2-LSitting on the back porch, the house is quiet, the other two kids are sleeping and I’m imagining Riley sticking his head out the sliding glass door saying, “I’m going to Coffee Rush.” I’d say, “OK” and then I’d stare at him for what was next. He’d say, “Can I have some money?” and I’d say,”Really? You have no money?” and he’d say, “Well, I could use some money if you’d like to give me some.” And I’d say with a smirk on my face, “Yeah….”  I would walk in and grab some cash, give it to him and say “Here ya go. I love you. This is an advance for the yards being mowed later today, right? ” He’d look at me and say, “Of course. I’ll do the yards….. later. I love you too..Thanks Mom”

The farther we get out from the day he died, the more it sinks in this is real. Amazing how good I am at times at not believing that he is not coming back. I don’t let myself think about the fact that he won’t just appear in a room with his smile and sweet demeanor to make my day. Then out of the blue, it hits me. There is a sinking feeling that wells up from my soul, the tears come to my eyes, fall down my cheeks and it hurts bad . It stings like no other sting I have ever had. I breath deep, I keep moving. I have to keep moving. I am afraid if I stop, I won’t get back up.  I don’t want this to be real. I want my  baby boy back here with me. Grouchy like when his wisdom teeth got pulled. Calling me for more Kleenex when he had a cold. Me being able to ask for help on my computer and him rolling his eyes because I just didn’t get it and it’ was so simple to him.

I hate that tab that took Riley from me. I hate the chemist that dreamed it up. I hate the lab that produces it and markets it. The dealer that bought it online and sold it to him. A drug on a tab in his mind that was going to give him an experience worthy of a 18th birthday celebration. Couldn’t the birthday dinner, present and family being together been enough? Couldn’t a get together with his friends at the house have been enough? The hugs and kisses and all of which were coming his way in just a few hours. Why couldn’t that have been enough of a celebration? Why did he have to go and try a drug that night?

Riley lost his life because of drugs. One decision made by him had dire consequences. Consequences  that ended  coffee with friends, reading a good book, playing his music, and sharing his smiles with whoever crossed his path . I wish Riley could stick his head out the sliding glass door today. I want to see his face right there looking at me because he had made a different decision on May 3rd.

I think I will sit here a little longer and imagine the last time he did just that.

I love you, Riley.

Riley, The Musician

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Riley, The Musician

“Life is like a piano. What you get out of it depends on how you play it.” -Tom Lehrer

“Don’t Worry, Mom”

/ djuanadreed / 2 Comments

scan0004Riley came into this world smiling. Well, he probably cried at first, but I’m pretty sure once he started smiling, we were all blessed.  His smile was contagious even as a little guy, he was called “Smiley Riley”. He was as easy as pie as a child. He was rarely in trouble and when he was, it was over stupid stuff like ditching class or grades. And the grades thing was stupid because he was super smart, but didn’t see the need to do the homework when he could ace the tests.

He stopped having his hair cut as a freshman and with my begging and pleading,  he did trim it for his senior pictures…trim ONLY was the agreement. I loved his long hair. Riley beat to his own drum, he knew no strangers, and he went out of his way to share that smile and easy goin’ demeanor with others. Riley played guitar, piano, saxophone and tuba. He was a band kid and he tried choir his senior year. It was fun to watch him sing. He loved music and was very talented. He liked to discuss philosophy, psychology, religion, music, computers and he played chess at his home away from home, his favorite hang out, a local coffee shop where he left an impression on adults as well as his peers.

Riley decided to celebrate his 18th birthday by taking acid. I’ve seen something he wrote while in the euphoria of the acid trip and we know too well the aftermath of what happened when that acid trip went bad. The decision to try a drug ended his life. Riley was accepted to NAU, had a girlfriend he was over the moon about, had a family birthday celebration coming up, a grad party planned, a high school graduation to experience…all stopped in its tracks. I thought we were open and frank in our conversations about sex, drugs, school, girls. We actually had a long conversation about drugs only two days before the incident. He told me he wouldn’t go there, he said he knew better…..“Don’t worry, Mom,” he said.

He did go there even though he knew better. Teens think they are invincible.  How do we change that? I do not know.

We do keep talking to our kids. We need to educate ourselves on this epidemic of drugs. Too many lives are lost daily to drugs and Yes they can get it- pot, heroine, acid, mushrooms, Xanax, Oxycontin, cocaine, Ecstasy, Adderall and so much more. There have been many stories in my inbox exactly like Riley’s almost to a “T”. There’s synthetic drugs outIMG_0295 there that sent a 14 year old wandering the streets naked, a grown man waking up in the ER with the last thing he remembers is smoking some pot the week before. He said it looked like pot, it smelled like pot yet blood work showed no THC – what the heck did he really smoke?

There’s plenty of adults and children dying from drug use. The pot your kids are smoking is laced with all kinds of crap. Did you know there are acid brownies?  Hash cookies? Kids are putting drugs in vapor cigarettes and e cigarettes and in hookahs.  How about Triple C’s?  Triple C’s are (Coricidin Cough and Cold pills) the writer told me that her son was taking 20 at a time to hallucinate. Cough medicine that is sold for a little over $5 a box to anyone! These are the  things kids are using to get high that is readily available to them. This mom got the pills pulled from her local Walmart store shelf by talking with the pharmacist and they are now only available from behind the counter.

The dealers are buying the drugs online. How scarey is this to you?

Talk to your kids about the dangers of drugs. Educate yourselves about what is out there. Teens are educating me on the drugs and what is out there so we need to get ahead. Maybe Riley’s story will sink in so that when that one moment of curiosity, peer pressure, opportunity comes for your child or relative or neighbor or friend’s kid (and it will)…. they will walk away, say No, choose to not go there knowing about a pretty cool kid that had a smile for just about everybody that died as a result of thinking he was going to have some fun.

I Love You, Riley.

 

 

It Can’t Be True. Please God Don’t Let It Be True.

/ djuanadreed / 10 Comments

IMG_5164-LThat morning, the day of Riley’s 18th birthday, a day full of Riley birthday plans and birthday wishes, I got a phone call that I couldn’t have imagined that I would ever receive. I hung up the phone and ran to my car. My body was shaking. I backed out, hands gripping the steering wheel tight. I started moving the car  forward saying out loud, ” It can’t be true. He has it wrong. It can’t be true. Please God don’t let it be true“.  I cried out loud and then I’d say it again, “It can’t be true. He has it wrong. It can’t be true. Oh God please don’t let it be true.” When I pulled up, there were firetrucks and ambulances and police cars lining the street. I got out of the car and felt like I was going to pass out. Police detectives walked up to me,  Greg came up to me, we held each other as I sobbed, whaled, cried.  It was true. He wasn’t wrong. God couldn’t tell me different. I sat on the curb and rocked back and forth while the officers were trying to talk to me,  telling  me what was going to happen next, giving me their condolences, their words of comfort. There was no comfort to be had. My baby boy was dead.

Our family paced, stared, cried, talked for the next few hours trying to make sense of it all until we found out about the drugs. Details of the evening started coming in. He had taken acid (LSD) – it was planned to celebrate his birthday. With a timeline among other consistent details from different sources, it was clear… it was drugs. The friends said it was his first time. They said he was happy at a certain point.  They told him to call if he got into trouble, he did call…..they missed the call…..he was found shortly after. Riley had shot himself.

It doesn’t seem real sometimes still. I think of Riley often in normal activity moments (Mom moments) like what would he want from the grocery store or  maybe I should get him those …….oh no he doesn’t need new shorts anymore or if I park in his spot, where will he……he won’t be parking his car in the driveway anymore.  At the funeral, Bria and I came in, Braden and Greg were there in the family waiting area and I immediately did a head count and thought to myself, someone is missing. Of course someone was missing. I loved it when we were all together. As they get older, you almost have to schedule being all together. My most favorite times were always when all three kids were together in the same room bantering and telling stories. I didn’t dream this could happen. It never crossed my mind. Not this. 477298_3885360019559_805965517_o[1]

” In 2012, an estimated 23.9 million Americans aged 12 or older were current (past month) illicit drug users, meaning they had used an illicit drug during the month prior to the survey interview. This estimate represents 9.2 percent of the population aged 12 or older. Illicit drugs include marijuana/hashish, cocaine (including crack), heroin, hallucinogens, inhalants, or prescription-type psychotherapeutics (pain relievers, tranquilizers, stimulants, and sedatives) used nonmedically.” – See more at: http://www.drugwarfacts.org/cms/Drug_Usage#Overview

And we are at 2014 now, bet ya the numbers are higher not lower. Drugs kill. It is true. So so many lives have been lost because of drugs. I’m not wrong. It only takes one time, one try, one decision to have such horrific, wrong,  permanent consequences. Please God help me share Riley’s story so that this isn’t true for another family.

**This post was written in June 2014. We are at 2015 now, 9 months since Riley died. I’ve learned that every 17 seconds a teenager tries a drug for the first time.  I have seen so many stories of kids just like Riley who, on their first try of a drug, died.  The LSD he had was bought online by the high school age dealer at his school. The amount of LSD in that one tab according to the toxicology report was way way way more than he was told. My kid was like your kid -a smart kid, band kid, choir kid, good with computers, lovable kid, loved music, played guitar, liked coffee, made strangers smile, accepted to college, happy go lucky, Riley tried a drug and died.  Tell your kids it can happen. It only takes one time.

I love you, Riley.