News (Media Awareness Project) - CN BC: 'I Miss Him So Much' |
Title: | CN BC: 'I Miss Him So Much' |
Published On: | 2003-01-25 |
Source: | Maple Ridge News (CN BC) |
Fetched On: | 2008-01-21 13:45:59 |
`I MISS HIM SO MUCH'
Almost daily Pat Murphy longs to switch places with her son. He's buried
beneath a small, plain grey gravestone in the west wing of the Maple Ridge
Cemetery.
It was four years ago on Wednesday that Pat's 19-year-old son Damien died
from a heroin overdose.
For the first two years the local woman refused to accept that her son
could have overdosed. Instead, she tried desperately to shift the blame to
someone else -- creating elaborate conspiracy theories and living in a
world of denial.
Slowly, she came to the realization that Damien did inject himself with
that lethal dose of the drug, and likewise she was forced to accept that
this was not the first time he used heroin.
In the subsequent months of grieving, Pat began beating herself up --
asking how she could have failed her son? Why couldn't she prevent his death?
Now, at age 51, Pat has gone through extensive counseling, read dozens of
self help books, talked with Damien's friends, shared Damien's story with
kids on the streets and in local schools, filled journal after journal with
her thoughts and feelings, and followed almost every step recommended for
dealing with grief.
She still takes anti-depressant medication to help her cope. And not a day
goes by that she doesn't find herself crying and wishing to trade places
with Damien. It's not so much that she wants to die, but she wishes he was
still alive.
As she placed flowers on Damien's grave on Wednesday, she shared her newest
insights.
She admits to him that it's still a struggle without him. But she tells him
that she has discovered a silver lining in this tragedy -- as hard as it is
for her to believe.
Pat traces over the letters on the gravestone: In Loving Memory Of Damien
M.J. Murphy 1979 -1999
She tells him that his death has prompted her to reach out to dozens of
other kids on the streets of Maple Ridge -- like Damien -- who are at risk.
"I needed to find some way to make a difference," she told the News. "I was
struggling and honestly I'm still struggling. I can't help Damien. He's
gone. But if I can help another kid, then maybe I can get past this and
help ensure that another kid can have a good life." Much of Pat's spare
time is now spent visiting with young people -- youths who she describes as
in crisis or on the verge.
For many of them, she's the only adult in their life who listens, respects
their feelings and attempts to help them rebuild their self-esteem and
subsequently their young lives.
There have been some real success stories in the past few years, Pat said.
There are at least eight young people who have not gone back to heroin
following Damien's death, part of the credit going to Pat for her efforts
to befriend and support these kids through some of the tough times.
One of her son's friends was in drug rehabilitation when Damien died. He
gave the eulogy at Damien's funeral service, and has not used drugs since.
He is now married, has a baby and a job and is in the process of buying a
house.
"This was a kid that was in as much trouble as Damien," Pat said. "But he's
making it. He's a success story. He tells me that every day is a struggle,
but he's committed."
With successes, there too come failures. Pat said she has seen at least two
other kids die. She didn't wish to elaborate on their tragic stories.
Besides the work she does one-on-one with the teens, Pat said there's
another job she has assigned herself.
In the coming months and years, she's determined to help fight for changes
to the Young Offenders Act.
Kids, her late son included, know how to play the system and escape with
nothing more than a slap on the wrist, she said. Pat believes that has to
change; there have to be consequences to their actions if there's any hope
of stopping the cycle.
Bad behaviour can't be justified. Damien grew up without his father. When
he was 18 years old, he learned his father was shot and killed (a victim of
mistaken identity) during a business trip to Calgary two week before Damien
was born.
Damien suffered from attention deficit disorder and Pat criticizes herself
to this day for not being more strict during those earlier years. They
moved around a lot and money was often scarce. But Pat is adamant that
those were not excuses for Damien's drug use or criminal actions.
"I took my job very seriously with him," she said. But looking back, she
said she did him no favours when he began acting out as a youngster.
"I loved Damien, but he was no saint," she said. He had a "very lengthy
criminal record" and was in trouble with the law since age 14 -- stealing
cars, breaking into homes and robbing people.
"I think he was a lot more troubled than I ever knew," Pat said in retrospect.
Pat said she suspected Damien had started using some kind of hard drugs
about a month before his death. She remembers massive mood swings, finding
him nasty, bitter and volatile. She even had to admit him to hospital for
care, but through it all he denied doing drugs.
"Damien was a great liar. He masked a lot of stuff. He never hurt anyone
else, but he did a lot of damage to himself."
She realizes now that Damien's use of hard drugs was a cry for help.
"Parents better do everything in their power and take their blinders off,"
she said. That means becoming educated about drugs and their tell-tale signs.
"Kids want their parents to see it and to say they'll do something to
help," Pat said.
What does this mother recommend to other parents of teens at risk:
"Spend quality time with them. You have to want to be part of their lives
and it can't be superficial. Your desire to be part of their life has to be
real. I tried. I didn't succeed. But I sure tried."
Communication is key, and not just at a superficial level of niceties.
"Parents are out there with blinders on. They don't want to see there's a
problem. It's sort of like they try to turn it off, or tune it out. But we
can't tune it out."
Even if it gets bad, she encourages parents to overcome any fears of
embarrassment and shame and seek out professional help, parenting groups,
counselling and any other tools to help ensure their children not only
survive, but grow up to be healthy, safe and happy.
"Don't give up. If it gets bad, you might have to step back and give some
tough love, but don't give up," she said.
"I don't feel I was a failure with Damien, I didn't get there, but it
wasn't for a lack of trying. Hopefully other parents can get involved and
help before it's too late."
Wiping away a few leaves of cut grass that have accumulated on her son's
gravestone in the past week, Pat said: "I miss him so much. I'm missing out
on the life he should have had.
"Sometimes, I don't think it's getting any easier. But I'm working to find
closure. The last thing I ever said to him was `I love you' and he looked
back at me and said `diddo Mom.' He knew he was loved. What I'm realizing
now is that love alone isn't always enough."
Almost daily Pat Murphy longs to switch places with her son. He's buried
beneath a small, plain grey gravestone in the west wing of the Maple Ridge
Cemetery.
It was four years ago on Wednesday that Pat's 19-year-old son Damien died
from a heroin overdose.
For the first two years the local woman refused to accept that her son
could have overdosed. Instead, she tried desperately to shift the blame to
someone else -- creating elaborate conspiracy theories and living in a
world of denial.
Slowly, she came to the realization that Damien did inject himself with
that lethal dose of the drug, and likewise she was forced to accept that
this was not the first time he used heroin.
In the subsequent months of grieving, Pat began beating herself up --
asking how she could have failed her son? Why couldn't she prevent his death?
Now, at age 51, Pat has gone through extensive counseling, read dozens of
self help books, talked with Damien's friends, shared Damien's story with
kids on the streets and in local schools, filled journal after journal with
her thoughts and feelings, and followed almost every step recommended for
dealing with grief.
She still takes anti-depressant medication to help her cope. And not a day
goes by that she doesn't find herself crying and wishing to trade places
with Damien. It's not so much that she wants to die, but she wishes he was
still alive.
As she placed flowers on Damien's grave on Wednesday, she shared her newest
insights.
She admits to him that it's still a struggle without him. But she tells him
that she has discovered a silver lining in this tragedy -- as hard as it is
for her to believe.
Pat traces over the letters on the gravestone: In Loving Memory Of Damien
M.J. Murphy 1979 -1999
She tells him that his death has prompted her to reach out to dozens of
other kids on the streets of Maple Ridge -- like Damien -- who are at risk.
"I needed to find some way to make a difference," she told the News. "I was
struggling and honestly I'm still struggling. I can't help Damien. He's
gone. But if I can help another kid, then maybe I can get past this and
help ensure that another kid can have a good life." Much of Pat's spare
time is now spent visiting with young people -- youths who she describes as
in crisis or on the verge.
For many of them, she's the only adult in their life who listens, respects
their feelings and attempts to help them rebuild their self-esteem and
subsequently their young lives.
There have been some real success stories in the past few years, Pat said.
There are at least eight young people who have not gone back to heroin
following Damien's death, part of the credit going to Pat for her efforts
to befriend and support these kids through some of the tough times.
One of her son's friends was in drug rehabilitation when Damien died. He
gave the eulogy at Damien's funeral service, and has not used drugs since.
He is now married, has a baby and a job and is in the process of buying a
house.
"This was a kid that was in as much trouble as Damien," Pat said. "But he's
making it. He's a success story. He tells me that every day is a struggle,
but he's committed."
With successes, there too come failures. Pat said she has seen at least two
other kids die. She didn't wish to elaborate on their tragic stories.
Besides the work she does one-on-one with the teens, Pat said there's
another job she has assigned herself.
In the coming months and years, she's determined to help fight for changes
to the Young Offenders Act.
Kids, her late son included, know how to play the system and escape with
nothing more than a slap on the wrist, she said. Pat believes that has to
change; there have to be consequences to their actions if there's any hope
of stopping the cycle.
Bad behaviour can't be justified. Damien grew up without his father. When
he was 18 years old, he learned his father was shot and killed (a victim of
mistaken identity) during a business trip to Calgary two week before Damien
was born.
Damien suffered from attention deficit disorder and Pat criticizes herself
to this day for not being more strict during those earlier years. They
moved around a lot and money was often scarce. But Pat is adamant that
those were not excuses for Damien's drug use or criminal actions.
"I took my job very seriously with him," she said. But looking back, she
said she did him no favours when he began acting out as a youngster.
"I loved Damien, but he was no saint," she said. He had a "very lengthy
criminal record" and was in trouble with the law since age 14 -- stealing
cars, breaking into homes and robbing people.
"I think he was a lot more troubled than I ever knew," Pat said in retrospect.
Pat said she suspected Damien had started using some kind of hard drugs
about a month before his death. She remembers massive mood swings, finding
him nasty, bitter and volatile. She even had to admit him to hospital for
care, but through it all he denied doing drugs.
"Damien was a great liar. He masked a lot of stuff. He never hurt anyone
else, but he did a lot of damage to himself."
She realizes now that Damien's use of hard drugs was a cry for help.
"Parents better do everything in their power and take their blinders off,"
she said. That means becoming educated about drugs and their tell-tale signs.
"Kids want their parents to see it and to say they'll do something to
help," Pat said.
What does this mother recommend to other parents of teens at risk:
"Spend quality time with them. You have to want to be part of their lives
and it can't be superficial. Your desire to be part of their life has to be
real. I tried. I didn't succeed. But I sure tried."
Communication is key, and not just at a superficial level of niceties.
"Parents are out there with blinders on. They don't want to see there's a
problem. It's sort of like they try to turn it off, or tune it out. But we
can't tune it out."
Even if it gets bad, she encourages parents to overcome any fears of
embarrassment and shame and seek out professional help, parenting groups,
counselling and any other tools to help ensure their children not only
survive, but grow up to be healthy, safe and happy.
"Don't give up. If it gets bad, you might have to step back and give some
tough love, but don't give up," she said.
"I don't feel I was a failure with Damien, I didn't get there, but it
wasn't for a lack of trying. Hopefully other parents can get involved and
help before it's too late."
Wiping away a few leaves of cut grass that have accumulated on her son's
gravestone in the past week, Pat said: "I miss him so much. I'm missing out
on the life he should have had.
"Sometimes, I don't think it's getting any easier. But I'm working to find
closure. The last thing I ever said to him was `I love you' and he looked
back at me and said `diddo Mom.' He knew he was loved. What I'm realizing
now is that love alone isn't always enough."
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