In the days after Cade, my 18-year-old son, unexpectedly and tragically died from a fentanyl poisoning almost four years ago, I remember sitting with my other son, Ross, and saying to him, “I don’t know how to do this. There’s no road map for grief.”
There is no manual. No checklist. No well-lit path to follow.
I could feel the pain living in every single cell of my body, 24/7. I was afraid that I would never feel different and I’d be stuck in this deep well, living a life that felt like a prison sentence…