We met at 16 years old. That was over 13 years ago, Mike. You reminded me of that all the time. You would say, “You have put up with you for 13 years and you will have to put up with you forever, whether you like it or not.” You would say that whenever I got mad or said how annoying you were. I loved you so quickly, we have had our ups and downs, but God always brought us back to each other. There had to be a reason. You saved me in more ways than one, and I will forever be grateful for that. Our addiction took hold and turned both of us ugly. But I still loved you and you loved me. You never let anyone speak ill of me and I would defend you no matter what you did to make me mad. We made it through things that other people would have walked away from without even thinking about it. You are my soul mate Mike, and anyone who knows us knows that.
We had a baby, he has your middle name. He acts JUST like you. Then there was another little man added to our family. You did not have to take him under your wing, but you wanted to. He has your attitude as well. And they both have your joy. You were there sense they were in my belly, and you always had candy for me to keep me happy, even when I was not pregnant. They love you more than anything in this world. But we were addicts
I had to get clean for them, so I moved away. After a few attempts, I got this whole sobriety thing. But I still enabled you. Maybe if I did not enable you, things would be different. But it is too late now. I had the ability to leave the environment of addiction, you did not. It was much harder for you because you were deeper in the addiction and did not have the love and support I had. You finally got it together and I trusted you to have the boys for weeks at a time. They never wanted to come home with me. It was always a fight. That is how much they love you, Mike. You have always been a damn good daddy to them and that will be the way that you will be remembered. You had your demons, but they never came before your kids. People who have not been under the hold of heroin will never understand. It starts as a choice, but it ends with a never-ending need to get that next fix to be able to get out of bed. I will NEVER see you as a bad person, I will see you as a sick person who wanted help. You wanted to get better for the boys. You talked about it and about how proud you were of me for all I do for the boys and how I will go on to help other people suffering from addiction. Why couldn’t I save you? You were the one person I would do anything to save. I love you, Mike. I always have and always will.
I always told you how much I wanted you to stop using and kept lecturing you on what you were doing wrong. I did not acknowledge how hard you were trying to do the right thing. I am sorry for that; those feelings of guilt will forever be with me. I was impatient with you the night before when we were on the phone. I told you I loved you, did you even hear me? I am not sure you did, but I pray that you did. I am sorry we did not call you back. I am sorry I did not call earlier in the morning when I had that uneasy feeling. Maybe I could have called in time to save you. Maybe my four-year-old never would have had to tell me, while I am two hours away, that “Daddy won’t wake up”, “I can’t get him to wake up Mommy”. That phone call is going to be with me forever. Why did this have to happen??? How are we supposed to go on without you??? I need to be able to say goodbye and get the picture of you on the floor out of my head. So does our youngest boy. He cries when I mention you. We are lost without you, Mike.
You were so excited to cook Thanksgiving dinner for the first time. The boys were going to come up and you invited me to eat with you guys. You were my best friend, but I never told you enough because I was always so busy. I thought you would always be here for me to talk to tomorrow. The only way I will hear your voice is on the voicemail’s that I have saved on my phone. WHY????? Why did I get out and not you? Why was I the one who has to live without you? I do not have any clue how I am going to raise our two amazing, handsome, loving, caring, and rambunctious little boys alone. They need their daddy. I know you will always be here, but you won’t be HERE. I took you for granted. But I will never let your memory be ruined by people who have not felt the pain I am feeling or have never experienced addiction themselves or through a loved one. They mean nothing to me. They do not know you like I know you. They do not know the huge heart that you had. When you had no home and you still made sure I had gas money to bring the boys up to visit. Every addict is selfish, but you were selfless.
You love myself and our boys more than you loved yourself. I wish you loved yourself more and seen what an amazing man you are. I still cannot speak of you in the past tense. This is not real. I am so sad and angry at the same time. I need to say goodbye, I need to see that you are okay, I need the boys to grow up with you in their hearts. I PROMISE you that they will have nothing but happy thoughts of you. I will talk to you every night and I will remember all the good times we have had together. I love you and so do our (not so baby) boys. Please watch over us Mike. We need you, every day. We had so much we wanted to accomplish. We may not have been together, but you were my person. You will always be my person. I love you and I wish we had the happy ending with marriage and a little girl we always dreamed of. I will forever cherish the family we did have together, because I will always have two mini Mike’s running around my house driving me crazy just like you taught them. <3
The family has put together a fundraising below to help with the $1,700 for a low cost cremation and viewing by immediate family.