When my Prince was alive and still in school or rehab, this was one of the days I dreaded the most. April 20th. or 420 (four-twenty) as the kids referred to it. It is some kind of weed smoking reference, I never got the full story. I just knew it was a day that the pot smokers celebrated by excessive marijuana smoking.
There were other days I also dreaded when he was in his teen years. That would be every day. My head is still not working properly. I will ask my younger son the same question 4 times in the 6 minute drive to his high school. It disturbs him. I try to explain that I am just so distracted since the Prince passed away and I am hopeful that in time it will get better. In reality, I do not know if I really believe it.
I do not hold my Prince up on a pedestal in his death, although it often too painful to remember the early years of his addiction, but there are certain moments when it comes crashing into my consciousness and I am reminded of an incident. In his final year of high school he was still going to the intensive outpatient rehab program. He was dating a junior from his home district. She was a lovely, beautiful girl. She was drug and alcohol free. She never minded coming to the house to see him since his program did not allow him to leave the house unsupervised. She invited him to attend her Junior Prom as her date. I was hesitant and very reluctant to allow him to attend. The "program" did not think it was a good idea. I faltered and decided to trust him. She was a good girl and she I know he did not want to risk losing her. I took him shopping and bought him a nice suit. He matched his shirt to her beautiful red dress. I was going to drive them to the prom, and her mother was to pick them up.
Two days before the prom, his weekly urine test turned up dirty. For opiates. He snorted heroin for the first time. Money turned up missing that week and I subsequently found it hidden in his room. I refused to drive them, refused to allow him to attend the prom. He went anyway. The next day I went apartment hunting. I had reached my limits. I was not yet in a financial position to afford an apartment while my soon to be ex-husband and the Prince lived in the house while I tried to sell it. Not to mention the fact that they would have killed each other. The solution was that he would go live with his grandparents. He lived with them until the moment of his death. He died in their house.
I think of all of the blogger buddies that I have followed and who have followed my story through these years. I am sad for the ones who have left us. However I am grateful for the love and support I have found here. I pray for your children that are still fighting their demons and addictions. And I miss my Prince with every inch of my being.