DETOUR: Home for a funeral

I don't typically write about stuff like this, but this is worth writing about.

After Colorado, our plans were to head back East to Ohio for our next event. We cancelled that event and instead Becca drove me from Colorado all the way to Boston in 2 and half days. I was a mess.

Arriving back in MA, Becca dropped me off at my moms where I would be for the next couple days. Becca then went north to NH and VT for a couple days to see friends. I was in no way mentally prepared for the next couple days. Let me start with a little bit of a background.

I have spent my entire life surrounded by drugs and alcohol. I have watched people scream, yell, fight physically, and I learned not to follow in those footsteps of whom I watched teach me how. When I was in about 1st or 2nd grade, my father, an alcoholic among many other things I'm sure, decided to burn our house down while everyone was sleeping inside.

After, our house burnt to the ground my Uncle let my mother and her 4 kids move into his house. As devastating as this was it was just as exciting to have an opportunity to live with my 4 cousins. Ryan was the oldest cousin and was the child of my Aunt Charlotte and was adopted by my Uncle Bobby when they married. Then there was Bobbi, the first one born and the only girl, then came Craig and Paul.

Some of my best childhood memories happened while living in this house with my cousins. I can remember all of us eating raw hot dogs and fish sticks for dinner when no one was home to feed us. I remember playing in the woods of their swampy back yard, rolling around in the leave piles in the fall, and playing on the swing set they had in their back yard. I can even recall changing Paul's diaper because he was so young. Bobbi and I are almost a year apart, and as much as we got along, we also didn't get along the same. Craig however, was always laughing and joking around. He was only a year younger than me. I would always find him playing with his leggos, and even played Battleship with him many times.

As the years went on and we all got older, these were the cousins I would grow older with. Every holiday was spent together, and many weekends. Bobbi, Craig, and Paul because my siblings more than my cousins. As we all graduated from High School and started taking different paths, some bad and some for the good we sort of drifted apart.

I moved out to California, Paul joined the army, Bobbi went down her own challenging path, and Craig he tried a few different things before eventually deciding to join the Marines himself.

As soon as I came back from California, Paul and Craig were the first to welcome me back. I couldn't believe how much the two of them had grown. Both towering well over me. Craig and I kept in close contact and even hung out a few times at parties. However, I had no idea he was hiding such a dark secret. Or for how long he had been.

In life you become so attached, and then so detached from so much stuff when life gets "busy". Unfortunately, sometimes you then are blindsided with something similar to what happened with me.

I knew Criag had moved down to PA, and had met a great girl. I had recently been told he was trying to get his crap together and go back to college and get a degree. Everything seemed so good, he seemed so happy.

How was it possible that someone who knew a person forever, and his life story, how is it that I had no clue he was using Heroin? When my mother told me he had overdosed on Heroin, I couldn't get passed the phrase "Craig overdosed and killed himself." I for some reason blocked out "on Heroin" part. For some odd reason when we hear about overdoses we are always so quick to assume it's because someone was trying to kill themselves. Most of the time, that isn't the case, and especially with those who use.

Most who use drugs are doing nothing but chasing after a high, then a better one, and then one that is so euphoric their bodies go numb, and then their organs start to fail. A lot of the time most users overdose not realizing they are doing that to themselves.

So, what was it that bothered me so much? It was the simple fact that I was now stuck with the 1 unanswered question that was the same for my father. My father shortly after my 18th birthday died from and "overdose" of a mixture of alcohol and an opiate. But did he do it on purpose? Or was he just chasing another high?

Although with my father, I knew. I knew he was a drug addict and an alcoholic. I knew he lived a crazy messed up life. But Craig, why him?  He was so smart, happy, and had so much  potential? I have my theories, but again I will never have the truth.

Heroin has become such an epidemic in the world we live in today. It is the cheapest drug you can get, and god only knows how it's made and with what ingredients any more. I have heard, that the ingredients used to make it now make it so you become addicted more easily, and make you want and crave a better high which in return makes you take way more than your body can handle.

At the wake, we pulled into the parking. I cried the entire car ride there. I finally got it together enough to walk into the funeral home. The same funeral home where my best friend layed in her casket at 13. It took me about a good half an hour of sobbing in the other room before I could enter the room where Craig was.

I made a very quick passing to say my goodbyes, went down the line and hugged each cousin and parent one by one. Sobbing, confused, and utterly shocked. I could not wait to leave there, I didn't want to look at the photo collages that were posted, I didn't want to smell the flowers and awful perfume some were wearing, and similar to my fathers funeral, I did not want to chat with people who knew me when I was "this big".

The next morning my mother tried to prepare me for the funeral, as I had never really been to a full funeral procession since my nana died when I was 2. My mother mentioned that there was going to be bag pipes, and she said it was going to be incredibly sad when I start to hear them play. I got out of my car to loud bag pipes playing, this horrible sad tune as all walked into the Church. I am pretty sure the moment the sound touched my ears it was as if someone slapped me across the face.

Tears poured out of my eyes, but I had to get my stuff together because I would be speaking in front of everyone. I would be standing, horrified, emotional, and a sad mess in front of everyone trying to read out of a bible while my eyes dripped sad, sad tears.

I got up, I did my thing. My voice cracked, before I knew it- it was over. Thank god. I sat back down, my mother handed me a tissues and I just weeped. I just couldn't believe a cousin who was practically my brother is gone, that's it. Drugs. The one things I have despised my entire life. Drugs had taken him away from me, not just me but his family, girlfriend, and many friends.

The next morning, Becca was due back to pick me up to hit the road again. She arrive on time and I was sad to leave home but so much more excited to get on with my life. Becca had been such a strong support in my life during such a horrible shocking time in my life. I said my goodbyes and I got back in the car- and we were off.

I had places to go and things to do and I brought a piece of Craig everywhere we went from that day on.