Colleen Orchanian

We have been exploring the different times in our relationship with an addict. This post is about what is often the hardest place in the addiction journey. I have not had to bear this suffering, but I know many who have. Many who have lost a child to addiction through death. The addict can die from an overdose, suicide, violence, or accidents. The recovery you prayed for never came, or it came for a short time and then was gone. With death, it's over. In a way. But in another way, it is never over because when someone you love dies, you never fully recover from that. And our grief is more complex when the one who died was suffering from the disease of addiction.

Some of you know this pain. I hope this reflection will give you hope and help you better understand what you're feeling and how the enemy is working through your pain. The hope will come through knowing that God is also working in the pain to help you carry this heavy cross.

Let's start by considering how the devil is working, because he has no mercy, Satan will attack you in your weakest moments. He will try to destroy you, your marriage, your family, and your faith.

• Sometimes he attacks you—and how you see yourself: This is your fault. If only you had done this, they would not have died. You failed. You are not grieving right; you should be over this by now. Your life is over now that they are dead; you may as well die, too.

• Sometimes he attacks your relationship with God: He doesn't love you. He's not real. If God cared, He would have saved them from addiction. God couldn't help them because He doesn't have the power.

• Sometimes he attacks your relationships with others: It's their fault; they were a bad influence. They don't understand your grief; nobody does. You can't count on anyone else. No one cares about your pain. You are all alone.

It's helpful to reflect on two questions in our grief, questions that can help us discern how to grieve well and how to help others do the same.

1. Who do I need to be strong for? Maybe you lost a child and there are other siblings, or your spouse died and you have children. Sometimes you need to be strong for them. They are hurting, too, and may not talk about their pain because they fear it will hurt you too much. The same is true of your spouse when a child has died. You each fear talking about the death because it might cause the other too much pain. Pray for the grace to be strong for them when they need it most. And when you can't, say so. "I'm sorry, my heart is hurting so bad right now, I can't give you what you need. But know that I love you."

2. When can I be weak? We cannot be strong all the time, and we should not be. It's unhealthy to hide our grief and pretend that all is well. That can lead to isolation, which is not at all healing. Think about when and with whom you can share your pain. I know many who cry at Mass, which seems to be the time they feel the most sad. That's okay. If others notice, chances are they will pray for you even when they don't know the reason for your tears. You might be surprised at how many people are praying for you. It's okay to be weak. Find a caring person or a grief group where you can be vulnerable and honest.

Those who are left behind suffer so much. We need many things when the addict we love has died. It's okay, and even important, to take care of our own needs. What are they?

Our needs

We need to process the unhealthy emotions we have when addiction leads to death: shame, guilt, blame, regrets, and sometimes even relief. It's hard to talk about these emotions, but that is a very good thing to do. Find a wise spiritual friend who listens well. If you aren't comfortable with that, journal about your feelings. Sometimes when we see something in writing, we can more easily spot the lies of the devil and reject them.

We need to work through our anger at God for not answering our prayers, or not answering them in the way we wanted. Sometimes we deny we are mad at God, or we won't admit it, even to God. But He knows our heart, and He can take it. It's okay to yell at God, to ask why, to speak your pain and anger. We bring that to Jesus and lay it at the foot of the cross.

We need to work through our anger towards others: at the addict, their friends, their enablers, others who we think were part of the problem. Anger at those who we think deserted us in our pain. Anger at those who have not been there for us. Those who are tired of listening to us cry. Those who can not fix this for us.

We need a lot of healing, not just from the loss, but from the wounds inflicted throughout the addiction. Wounds from the addict and from others who said thoughtless things, or hurt us because they were hurt by the addict. We might have thought recovery would bring healing, but that kind of healing is not possible now. The healing we receive after death will be different.

We need help to work through our grief. The sadness. The memories. The aching heart. The emptiness. The pain of the "firsts." The first birthday without them. The first Christmas. The first Mother's Day or Father's Day. The anniversary of their death. Every first seems to bring fresh pain. These are normal reactions to any loss, even those not related to addiction. Seek help. There is someone God has chosen to walk with you in your grief.

We need to allow God into our most tender places, to heal us from the wounds inflicted during the addiction, to help us admit our powerlessness over their addiction.

We may need to learn a new way of describing our family. If you lost a child, the first time someone asks, "Do you have children?" what do you say? Do you pretend that they never existed? Do you say, "I had two children. One of them died." or "I have two children; one here on earth and one in heaven." I heard someone call that a blended family, which is a beautiful image. However you describe your family, each time it may feel like a sword in your own heart.

We need to discern how to share the addict's story. Do we avoid admitting the role addiction played in their death? Or do we speak frankly about it? My sister, Mary, spoke openly about her daughter's battle with addiction at her funeral. She shared what she loved about Jennifer, and what broke her heart. And, most importantly, she spoke of God's love for Jennifer and Jennifer's belief that Jesus loved her. It was so uplifting, honest, and raw. Many told Mary afterwards that they appreciated her honesty. And I think it was helpful to Mary to share the truth in that way. Your way may be different. Let God help you discern what is right for you.

We need a right understanding of death. A Biblical understanding. As Christians, we know that death is not bad if we die in the friendship of God. Paul wrote about desiring death because it was better than the suffering of this life. Death is gain. We enter Heaven, which is what we were born for—eternity in God's presence. We should all desire heaven for ourselves and those we love (and even for those we don't love so much). Read about how Jesus describes Heaven. It may be healing for you.

We need to trust in God's mercy for the addict who died. We may fear that they didn't know God, that their sins were so great they could not possibly be in heaven. We cannot know the state of their soul, even if they were living a very sinful life. Only God knows a person's heart. We can be certain that God is merciful, that He desires that all men be saved, and that He can save a person in their final breath. That He is love and compassion. Remember that he promised paradise to the thief on the cross. That is possible for our loved one as well.

A Helpful Virtue

Given all of this, what is the virtue that will help us the most during this time when we are grieving? It is gratitude. Maybe you're thinking, no way! I thought that too when I heard the word. Not that, Lord. Give me another virtue. But there wasn't another one. 1 Thessalonians 5:18 tells us to thank God in all circumstances. My sister, Mary, could thank God for the good memories of her daughter, Jen. For the conversations they had about Jesus. That Jen's last words to her were "I love you VERY MUCH!" She was grateful to her husband Quintin and the love he had for Jen, his stepdaughter. For the prayers of so many people during the long addiction journey and after Jen's death. For the blessing of her son, Jason, who stood by her side as she read her daughter's eulogy. So many things she was thankful for.

Your story is not Mary's, but maybe it can help you find something to be grateful for. Maybe you can think of only one thing. Okay. Thank God for that. And try to resist the urge to add "but." Thank you for the sunshine today, but why didn't you fix them? Just do the thank-you part. Read the letters of Paul and see how he was thankful in all things. In shipwrecks, beatings, imprisonment, and the martyrdom of his friends. He can show you the way.

Saint for Inspiration: Blessed Mother

Another person who can show the way through grief is Mary, the mother of Jesus. She knew death. She lost her husband, Joseph, and she lost her Son Jesus. When you think nobody can understand your pain, think about Mary. She knows what it feels like to watch someone you love suffer. She knows what it feels like to hear cursing and hate directed at her child. She knows what it feels like to watch her child die. She knows the pain of receiving the dead body of her Son, holding His lifeless body in her arms. Simeon told her when she brought Jesus to the Temple for his purification that "a sword will pierce through your own soul, too." She knows your pain. She has lived your pain. Meditate on the crucifixion from the perspective of Mary, and she will comfort you.

Jesus, too, will comfort you. He tells us, "Come to me, all you who are weary, and I will give you rest." We are weary when an addict we love dies. Weary of the drama, the pain, the financial drain, our own failure, the judgements of others, both real and perceived. Jesus calls us to Himself in these moments. He invites us to rest in His arms. He weeps with us, just as He did with Martha and Mary after Lazarus died. Jesus knew he was about to raise Lazarus from the dead, but still He wept. He felt the pain of His friends. He feels our pain, too. He weeps with us. And Jesus felt the pain of the addict we love.

I will close by sharing what my sister, Mary, said at her daughter's funeral. I hope it brings you some comfort.

Thank you to all of you who have prayed for Jennifer over the years. I also prayed as only a mom can pray. Crying out to God to heal my daughter and stop her suffering. Some of you may question, Where was God? But God did answer my prayers. He was there holding her as she breathed her last breath. God freed her from her life of addiction. I know she ran into the arms of Jesus the moment she died. God showed mercy and grace to my little girl. I loved her the most. But God loves her more! It's not goodbye, Jen, but until we meet again in paradise.

I pray that can give you hope and comfort in your loss.

Questions for prayer

• If you are grieving, what spiritual attacks can you recognize? What lies are you believing? Who can help you process your grief?

• If you know someone who is grieving, how might God be calling you to accompany them in their grief?