[kathryn]

My son started by smoking weed at 14. We’ve gone through it all. Police, hospitals, therapy, jobs lost, violence, stealing, etc. Last Christmas, he was arrested yet again. We decided that the only course of action at this point in his life was to petition the courts to take away his rights and force him into a long term clinical rehab program. My husband felt this was the only way. I, on the other hand, felt sorry for him and believed him when he told us that he could do it on his own. I gave him another chance, but, I told him I didn’t want to see him until he had started to turn things around. That was on December 28th. On Jan. 16, I got a call from the ambulance that my dear son had died. He had a seizure alone in his apartment on a cold, snowy night. I stayed with him for hours, wishing that he would wake up. Wishing that he could have one more chance. Wishing that we would have forced him into rehab.

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