Does It Even Matter?
I've spent the last year trying to explain how it feels to lose a child. How it feels to have a child who is addicted to opioids. I've fought for John. Explained what happened to John. Went to the court hearings. I've gone to the Town Hall Meetings on the Opioid Crisis. I've endured the "helpful" remarks, the awkward conversations, the odd looks, the whispers. I've defended those who have become dependent on opioids and I've defended John - what happened, the process, the horrible outcome. But for what? Honestly, does it even matter? John matters , but does all this writing matter? Does it make a difference? Because it's not easy. Not easy to let people into this terrible time - this terrible loss. Certainly not for novelty or curiosity. Maybe the awkward lady was right when she blurted out "Life Goes On!" I guess for the world it does go on. And for the rest of us, it stopped that day and we are still trying to