In Spite of Heroin by Dana Chase

Author:Dana Chase [Chase, Dana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781524628024
Publisher: AuthorHouse
Published: 2016-09-15T04:00:00+00:00

24

With Ryder locked away at Valley Rehab, I viewed the Fourth of July and celebrations of freedom and independence through an altered lens. Freedom was no longer an assumed aspect of life. I found it ironic that when I was surrounded by freedom, I never paid notice. Once it’d disappeared, it became front and center. I thought about all the parents that had sacrificed their soldier sons and daughters to maintain our freedom. How did I raise a self-absorbed son who cared only about serving his garish agenda? I couldn’t separate myself from his choices completely; I felt partially responsible. Somehow, in some way, I wanted to right his wrongs, make it up to society.

July 4, 2013, Brad was flying. Avery was wherever he was, uninterested in joining my family at Pelican Lake. Fortunately for me, I had an extended family with which to blend. They understood my situation was difficult, and their unconditional love and support was a cushioned pillar I could lean into for comfort and support. I saw my nieces, nephews, and their families only about once a year. Any occasions that included a collection of my sisters and their families brought only the best of times.

Ann’s three children, their spouses, and three grandsons filled the Pelican Lake home with joyful chaos. My nephew Eric, my sister Jackie’s oldest son, and his family were visiting from Colorado and staying with the Thorson’s, family friends who also lived on the lake. The entire family gathered at the Thorson’s the afternoon of the Fourth.

Minnesota license plates boasted “The Land of 10,000 Lakes,” and if you weren’t at one of them on the Fourth, you were missing the good life. Boats, sun, sandbars, parties, skiing, swimming, fishing, and bonfires were full-on at nearly every lake property. The Thorsons had invited at least twelve families to a potluck at their newly renovated two-story log home, which sat level with the beach, making it easy for parents to keep an eye on wet kids digging in the sand, splashing, and swimming.

As much as I loved seeing my family, it was also difficult because it inevitably brought up the topic of my boys, and a simple “How are they doing?” had me strategizing a response. I’d tailor my answer, wanting earnestly not to bring others down with my struggles. That afternoon was the only day I saw Eric, his wife Beth, and their three young, beautiful blond, blue-eyed sons. Her grandparents, and then her parents, had owned the lake home next to Thorsons, where she’d spent summers growing up. It was a calm, sunny, eighty-degree July day as guests comfortably spread out throughout the yard and log home. I sat down at a picnic table across from Eric and Beth. Eric was the second of my parents’ grandchildren, their first grandson, and I was seventeen when he was born. I watched him grow into the remarkable man he’d become. Beth was so sweet, as genuine and kind as any person you could ever meet.

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