I have spent so much time reflecting back over the years, since he came into my life. One particular moment that I so clearly recall, is when he was maybe 6 weeks or so, old. I was holding him in my arms and feeding him when our eyes seemed to lock! I could see the love in those big brown eyes with the long dark eyelashes. It was like a spiritual moment. It wouldn't have entered my mind then, but some times now I do wonder if maybe that wasn't the moment his soul entered his little body. We gazed into each others eyes for probably several minutes as if to say..., "Oh! Hi! There you are!" I fell deeper in love with my child at that moment and my heart was flooded with gratitude.
Being a true Hoosier, my husband believed that every boy must have his first basketball before the age of ..., well, 6 months! He also had his first set of golf clubs custom sized for our son at the age of 3! As the years went by, his dad had done a good job of grooming him for a competitive, but gentleman's game. He went on to play golf competitively for three years in a row, by the time he was 9. As his mom, it was such a joy to see my handsome young son looking so sharp on those beautiful rolling green courses. I can still see him out there wearing his visor and white glove, as he gazed down a fairway with his club of choice in his hands, my nine year old was sure he would one day be a Pro. His dad had coached him through everything that our son had participated in, until shortly after our separation, when Tommy was 11. That was another moment that was carved into my heart...
Despite the cliche', we were an upper middle class family living in the wealthiest county in Indiana. Our home was directly across the street from a popular and busy lake. On the day that we officially separated, my husband pulled up into the driveway in a large Uhaul. The emotions and tensions filled the air. Memories raced through my mind as I carried items out of the home that we had lovingly purchased together. It felt like we had volunteered to sever parts of our "selves" and as if this could be done with minimal suffering. I remember we were all helping to load the truck when I realized that I hadn't seen Tommy for some time. I called out to him but there was no answer. I started to look around and finally checked his bedroom. There, I found him standing drenched in tears and his face buried in the wall. Right away my tears began to flow as well because I knew what he was feeling and I could "feel" his pain. I reached out to hold him and cried out "I am so sorry baby!" By now he was bawling as he pulled away from my arms and fell to the floor, hands covering his face, he cried out with just one question...., "why are you doing this mom?" I fell to the floor with him, and I knew that moment that my son could be changed forever. I was completely guilt ridden because it was not my intention that our marriage would go the way that it did, and how could I make my 11 year old understand that? It couldn't be done. His heart was too broken and his father was his hero. Soon, unfortunately..., his father would pretty much become the missing link from his life.
My ex quickly remarried once our divorce was final and by then Tommy had become rebellious like many eleven year old boys do with these kinds of changes. In no time, parental visits at his dads home had become more like punishment than something to be excited over doing. Every visit included strict rules such as; no friends in the home, no phone calls to your mom while you are here, you eat what we make whether you like it or not, etc. Those were things that our son simply wasn't used to, and they continued with each visit until Tommy loathed going to their home. I know for a fact that if only he had tried harder to be there for our son, Tommy may have made some better choices along the way. I was always..., and will continue to always be...., the one to blame for any problems that the kids ever had. But when all is said and done, I was the only one available to Tommy from the time he was eleven until that dreadful New Years morning. My ex had some tough standards or should I say "rules" and an example of one of them was when we separated, he made it VERY clear to our friends that they would have to "pick" which one of us they would remain "friends" with :( And because Tommy preferred to be at his mom's during those years, his father lost interest in doing anything to inspire a visit. However, and to this day, they would happily take Tommy's little brother every chance that they got. After all, he was just a baby, he had no memories of the past and couldn't tell you about it even if he did. Since his new wife did not have any children, to the rest of the world, they would appear to have a beautiful and established family. In the long run, and feeling kicked to the curb, this only hurt Tommy even more.
Year after year, there weren't many days that you wouldn't find Tommy either out front shooting baskets, or over at the lake catching polliwogs and turtles. He made such a habit of bringing home those little turtles that one time I went out and bought a fish tank especially for them. Adorned with rocks, grass, bugs, and water, we found out super fast that turtles STINK. That didn't stop Tommy from bringing home more turtles, but it did stop mom from allowing the turtles in the house. Catching turtles soon turned into catching fish. By the time they were in their early teens, Tommy and his friends had been stocking the ponds around Noblesville and Cicero for some time. There was nothing he'd rather be doing in his spare time. Just a coincidence that his birth sign is Pisces....?
And let me be clear, I am NOT blaming Xanax for all of my son's problems. I am however absolutely certain that it contributed to much of his unusual behavior, and there is no doubt that it often, and without question, definitely influenced his decisions..., often negatively.
Tommy started getting into trouble during his high school years over little things, and it wasn't long before those little things evolved into bigger problems. Right before his Eighteenth birthday, Tommy was caught selling two pills to an informant that was working with the Drug Task Force. That was the beginning of the end of life as we knew it. Two pills. Six months in an adult prison. Two years of probation. Eighteen years old. It was also the topper in his dad and stepmother's eyes and the perfect excuse for their "I told ya so" gestures and further departing from his life. That is when Tommy would face and have to live with his own shame. He carried it like a monkey on his back.
Prior to the funeral, my ex husband spent 45 minutes with our deceased son's body, and although most would not have given it a single thought, it was (in effect), an admission of his guilty conscience and his attempt, I am sure..., at forgiveness. And although I had resented him for his treatment toward our son and the damage that it had caused, I understood his pain in that moment. He even invited me to go with him :( but I could not. I spent all my time with him for the last twentyseven years and NEEDED to remember him in my way so I waived that opportunity. I wanted to remember Tommy the way he was, each day that I saw him at home with me. I had just ironed his good white shirt for court the other day and he looked so handsome. I could still see him and hear him saying "thanks mom. Do you know where my belt is?" And other usual conversations we had that morning. At that time, Tommy was in the process of getting full custody of his son. He was working full time and was doing well. He had only one goal now, and that was to be an awesome father. When the baby was born and we were able to bring him home, his son weighed less than five pounds and his mother had received no prenatal care. She had hidden the pregnancy from Tommy and continued using heroin and crack cocaine until his birth. And because she was hiding the pregnancy and still using drugs, she tried to deliver the baby at home. I cringe to think of what might have happened to my beautiful grandson, had someone not pushed the panic button and called for paramedics....
Even in those first days of having the baby at home with us and the BIG DEAL THAT IT SHOULD HAVE BEEN to the rest of our family members, none of them came to visit us or our new precious little live in companion. Tommy actually had to call his dad and schedule a visit so he could meet his new grandson. I know, I am the one who drove them over there to spend the afternoon. We packed up the baby bag and made up some formula and off we went. He was so excited to introduce his father to his grandson. The sad thing is, they never made an effort to come see the baby prior to this nor after. But Tommy took the higher road and I am proud of him for it. It was also his attempt at repairing their relationship... "a gift for you dad" sort of gesture. Last year, for Tommy's last Christmas, he received a Christmas card from his dad (who has always lived within 15 miles of us) and was hand delivered via his little brother, read "Merry Christmas son, let's get together soon. Love dad" That never happened either. He was too late.
The months that followed were tough for Tommy and I because finding a babysitter was ALWAYS a problem. I had to work and so did he, but we chose to put the baby first so that one of us was always with him. That meant cutting back on some of my hours to accommodate his work schedule, and other days he would have to do the same for me. We were struggling financially because of this, but we had no other choice if we wanted to keep the baby at home and in our care. There was nobody within our family circle calling to offer any help in any way, shape..., or form.... period.
Tommy was not the every day heroin user, and that fact, in itself, presented a much more dangerous situation verses the typical addict, because it is much easier to overdose when you are the occasional user. Another problem that Indianapolis needs to face and acknowledge is the fact that too much of the heroin that is purchased and consumed today is "dirty" heroin. This is something that needs to be talked about as well and I do not recall mainstream addressing this problem either. Yet most heroin addicts can tell you all about it!
I had just gotten home from work one evening and Tommy and I were out side admiring the fact that Spring had finally arrived. A short time later I went in to start some dinner and he went to his room. Once dinner was in the over I sat down at my PC to browse the web. The house was quiet and suddenly I heard what sounded like a cough. I didn't think much of it and continued what In was doing but then I heard it again. But this time it was more like a choking sound. I flew out of my chair and ran toward his room calling out his name and when I opened the door Tommy was on the floor in a ball and gagging. Moments later his lips were turning purplish and he stopped breathing! "Tommy!" I called out to him.... "Tommy....B R E A T H!" I shouted, but no response. Trembling and shaken I fumbled with my cell phone to call 911. The person on the other end guided me as I attempted CPR on my son...
Trembling, in shock, and pacing the floor..., I BEGGED God to "let my son live!!!" I frantically scanned my contacts. I wanted to call SOMEONE! Someone who would come and be with me so that I wouldn't be alone. There wasn't a single family member to call. None of them wanted to be bothered with any more with this sort of thing. They wanted to be left alone. I tried to answer some of the sheriffs questions, as he casually peeked around my home. As Tommy lay strapped to a gurney and parked in the living room, he finally opened his eyes with a completely dazed and confused look on his face. When our eyes met he saw my fear and the tearful expression on my face. I knew he was sorry for worrying me like that and for hurting me. I knew he had a monster tied around his neck. I knew his heart like no other. This was NOT his intention. He looked at the EMT's as if to ask "what happened?" and one of them spoke "you had us a little scared there for a while, we weren't sure you would make it." I walked over to my son, shaken but so thankful to have him back. I hugged him and told him that I loved him and that I would meet him at the hospital.
Another time when Tommy had been doing really good in his sobriety, he had left with some guy that I had only met once or twice but who seemed to be an ok person. They were going to hang out with another friend and he would be back later. When he woke up in the morning, Tommy had absolutely no memory of where he had been, who he had been with, he could not remember the last time he had worked, etc. He remembered things like his address and birth date, etc, but otherwise, he was completely lost. He had asked me the same questions over and over and over again. I finally wrote all of his concerns down on a piece of paper with my answers and hung it next to his bed so that each time he woke up he would see it. This went on for almost a week. It was awful. It was sad. It broke my heart each time that I looked at that blank look on his face when I would say something...he would have to REALLY think before he could respond to me. Later that week we sat together on the edge of his bed talking about everything and he just broke down and sobbed until he was exhausted and he asked "what's wrong with me mom? I do good. I do GREAT and then I fuck up..." he whispered, covering his face and falling into a ball on the bed sobbing. I held my son and cried with him promising him that we would get through this!!! "Don't give up Tommy! The baby needs you! I need you! And we LOVE YOU!!! You HAVE TO HANG ON! PLEASE!!!"
I spent that entire year a complete nervous wreck. Although there were some months throughout the year where Tommy did great and seemed to have that monster slayed, unfortunately too, he had his days of giving in to temptation.
(side notes)
When the baby came along I thought FOR SURE this would be the motivator to get his life in order and he did, for a while..., until after court and right before new years 2015.
Tommy was in his late twenties and even though I wish that I could have, I could not watch him or treat him like a child. He certainly gave me a run for my money and kept me in a state of near constant worry, but he was an adult who made his own decisions, so there was only so much that I could do.
I gave birth to one son on Christmas Day 1975 and lost another son on New Years Day 2015
While working on this page, one of his best friends came by because his heart had been crushed by his girlfriend. Dropping his head and drying his eyes he said "normally I would have just called Tommy.... so I hope it's ok that I came to talk to you." I pulled into my arms as he cried on my shoulder. I thanked God that Tommy had some beautiful friends who I was blessed to know, love, and be like their other mom/friend.
Another one of Tommy's closest friends showed up at my door New Years day this year. He knew it was going to be a tough day for me, as well as for himself. We sat in the kitchen and talked for hours and I was so thankful to have him here with me for that time. It is apparent that these moments shared with Tommy's closest friends are coming to an end. And that fact is part of the grieving I am experiencing in losing my son. I am losing so much more. And another best friend having "girlfriend" issues came by a couple weeks ago and just wanted to spend some time here with me to be encouraged, loved, and heard. There are several friends of his that still come by to spend time with me and reminisce. It's a beautiful thing. Not too sure if they are visiting his dad tho. These are all boys that have been a part of our lives since Tommy's childhood and elementary school and I love them all dearly.
To be continued...
During the past few weeks while I was taking some time away from this, I discovered that my nephew in Florida is now using heroin. My sister found out about it the very same day that she found out that Tommy had passed.
I found out that the family that I work for has a friend who just lkost their life from a heroin overdose.
After several years my relationship with my daughter has been rekindled. She struggled with prescription meds and chose to use the methadone clinic in Indianapolis as a way to overcome her addiction....she never was able to "stop" going to the clinic...most don't ever stop. This too is a HUGE MONEY MAKING MACHINE.
The Gov of Indiana has adopted a needle exchange
I did something that I tearfully regret since my last writing :( After much consideration (several months) I decided to start a fundraiser to hopefully assist me with my crucial and immediate goals to move beyond the place I am emotionally in as well as give me the means to take the classes that I want to take in order to have a career that will sustaion me for as long as I am able to work 65-75 years old? Unfortunately, the fundraiser did not go over well at all. (will continue asap)
Update July 10, 2018 I am so sad to report that my nephew lost his battle to heroin just two weeks ago :( My heart goes out to my sister Judy and her family as well all of our family who knew and Loved Derrick Bohn.
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