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Once We Were Parents


My wife and I are 68 and 77 years old respectively and we have our grandchildren living with

us. A situation that was often identified with the poor and disadvantaged in our society has now reached deep into the mainstream of suburban families and has strained the Foster care system to its limits. The Opioid Crisis, among other things, has created a whole new dynamic for those trying to raise kids today. In nearly every county in every state there are support groups cropping up to give parents of addicted children some kind of help. In the not too distant past their bright talented kids were giving them such joy. Taking them to soccer camps and cheerleading practice was no sacrifice at all. And the pride of seeing these kids flourish at academic and sports related endeavors was so gratifying that it kept parents engaged and energized through the toughest of times.

Hand releasing heart
Remembering parenthood

Then, for some, it all went off the rails and plunged into a nightmare of unimaginable proportions. Their joy and enthusiasm for their beloved kids turned into a debilitating, soul-sucking desperation that knew no bounds. The father who took his child to tennis camps all over the state, was now driving him to the seediest part of the city to buy the Heroin he needed to stave off the dope sickness that was ravaging his body. The CEO of a manufacturing plant was now taking money from his own company to pay for his daughter's 5th stint in rehab -- this time in a facility touted by a TV personality as the best in the country but that in reality still has a 19% success rate. And the mother who found herself driving around for four days, eating and sleeping in her car, just in the hope of getting a glimpse of her daughter who was selling herself on the street. And of course for all of them the dreaded phone call came despite their anguished efforts.


These and other equally devastating stories are shared in these parental support groups on a regular basis, not so much for any sympathy they might receive but for their ongoing need to just talk about what once was. Only others in the same boat could understand the guilt and shame they live with daily. Only those who have been through it can relate to the acknowledgement that, "yes, God forgive me, there was a kind of relief that came with the end."


And now...we get to do it again. This new chapter in the legacy left by unconscionable companies like Purdue Pharma is one that involves the children of the Opioid addicted - some of whom were born addicted themselves and spent weeks in the NIC unit at the hospital being weaned off drugs. Children, who in addition to the trauma of losing one or both parents, are sometimes dealing with the physical and mental challenges of what may have passed through their systems in the womb.



This chapter has yet to be written, but is now playing out in homes like ours. We are again seeing kids off at the bus stop for their first day of kindergarten and wiping tears as they head off down the street alone. We are again driving children to soccer camps and swimming lessons and helping them with their homework. But what will this new chapter look like? Will we be overly cautious and smothering? Will we have a jaundiced eye for every accomplishment and milestone? Or will we extend an extra measure of love, protection and sensitivity to our childrearing?

I want it to be the latter. I want our experiences to only stiffen our resolve to be extra diligent. The legacy left by the unbelievably insensitive greediness of big pharmaceutical companies has to be rewritten. It has to include hope this time.


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