Have you ever felt the
fear of not knowing where your child is? The pain of not knowing whether he is
dead or alive? We have, and it was one of the worst days of our lives. Our then
19-year-old son had been missing for more than 24 hours and not one person had
seen him.
The nightmare started
with a text message from his girlfriend around 6:00 pm asking if we’d heard
from him.
Me:
Not since yesterday. Why?
Girlfriend: We had a big fight last night and now I can’t reach him.
Me:
Did you try his cell phone?
Girlfriend: Yes, he isn’t answering.
Me:
Maybe he is just upset with you. I will call him.
I try to call and text him
several times over the next half hour but there is no answer.
I call his girlfriend back
and ask her to call around to see if any of his friends have seen him and I’d
do the same.
I contact everyone I
could think of and not one person had seen him since the night before when he
was spotted walking down the Avenue alone around 10 pm.
I let his girlfriend know
what I found out, praying that she had better news. She didn’t. Not one of his friends
had seen him.
Panic set it.
I keep calling his phone.
Nothing.
I call the police station
to see if he is there. He isn’t and they hadn’t seen him at all.
I call the hospital to
see if anyone matching his description came in (dead or alive). Due to the
privacy laws, they can’t tell me anything but promise to give him my message if
he is there. I know he will call me immediately if he gets the message.
Nothing.
Mike takes a drive around
town to see if he can find him. I wait by the phone. Nothing.
I post a message on
Facebook to see if anyone has seen him. Nothing.
By midnight, we still haven’t
heard from him. I am in tears. Where could he be?
Mike tries to comfort me,
but we both know that this is really out of character for our son who always
stays in touch. I am scared. It doesn’t look good. He had a bad fight with his
girlfriend and he is at a bad point with his addiction. A terrible combination.
Now, he is missing.
I get down on my knees
and pray and cry and pray and cry. I eventually fall asleep (if you could call
it that) with a broken, worried heart.
We get up early the next
day to get things ready to file a missing person’s report with the police
department. I cry as I look at his photos and pray some more.
I hear from a few friends
who saw my Facebook posting. They offer to contact some other friends to see if
they’d seen him. Nothing.
We plan to file the missing person's report and then go check along the Hillsborough River and other waterways
to see if we can find him. We are heartbroken. At this point in time, it is
getting hard for Mike to be the strong one. It isn’t looking good.
As we turn onto Kirkwood
Drive, where the police station is located, my phone rings. It is OUR SON! I have
never been so glad to hear anyone’s voice in my whole life. In tears, I ask, “WHERE
ARE YOU?”
Very innocently, he said,
“I am at the hospital. Why? What’s wrong?”
It turns out that our son
was feeling suicidal the night he went missing. Instead of jumping off the
Hillsborough Bridge, which had entered his mind, he decided to turn left and
continue on to the hospital to get help. I am so thankful they did not turn him
away! Instead, they took really good
care of him for as long as he needed it.
When I called the hospital
looking for him, the person I spoke to had only checked the emergency room records
for that day/night, not the admitting records from the previous night. This is
why he didn’t get my message.
We were so grateful that
our son was alive and well. We were also grateful for the care that he was
given at the hospital. I am not sure why it worked out for him that particular night
(it wasn’t the norm for addicts), but we are glad that it did!
While this type of scare
can happen to anyone, these things happen more often when your child is
addicted to drugs. Our loved ones are at a higher risk of death than other
people their own age. It is our sad reality. It is our constant worry.
We can eliminate a lot of
stress on Island families by providing meaningful and timely treatment for
addiction. This will prevent the disease from escalating to the level where the
person is suicidal, committing crimes, etc.
The recent investment in Addictions
Services will certainly save lives but there is a lot more to be done. We cannot take
this lightly. There is too much on the line, including the lives of people like
my son who deserve the chance to get well. Today, it is my son, tomorrow it could be yours. Let’s stand together and support addicts and
their families in finding the road to recovery.
Sincerely,
Rose