"Child Of Substance"
by Susan Hubenthal

"NO, no, oh, God! NO!" I heard the blood curdling wail…is it a Nightmare, am I asleep? As I gasped for a breath, I suddenly realized that mournful cry was coming from me. This can't be true; I didn't hear it correctly. Was this some kind of cruel joke?

Kelly? Dead? I couldn't comprehend what my husband was saying; I was in disbelief, How could this be? Frantically, I began to ask questions, not wanting to hear the answers. Not my sweet baby boy, oh, no. Please God, no! I was suffocating & I wanted to run and I wanted the words to stop!

The Coroner came to our home while I was out. I had gone shopping. SHOPPING, for God sake! Why did I have to choose THAT particular day to shopping? It was to spend the Gift Certificate Kelly had given me for Mother's Day?

His name is Kelly Arthur Hubenthal. He was born August 7, 1967, weighing barely 6 pounds, The Nurses nicknamed him "Felix." I wanted this dear sweet baby more than anything in this world. He was so sweet & innocent; he filled the void in my heart & made me feel complete. How I loved him! Kelly, was the first Grandchild in our family, & he was MY Son!

"Now, I lay me down to sleep. I pray the Lord, my soul to keep. If I should die before I wake, I pray, the Lord, my soul to take. Dear God, watch over my child. Make him a good citizen, & a loving & giving, person. Amen."

This prayer I recited almost every night of Kelly's life.

At a few months of age, I began to notice a "squeak," in Kelly's breathing; he was sick most of the time. I would rock him for hours & sing to him. I made tents over his crib & stayed up all night keeping the humidifier going to help him breath, easier.

ASTHMA? That squeak is asthma? Oh, God, please help him! Kelly continued to be a very sickly baby, adolescent, adult. His asthma was severe; he missed a lot of school, took huge amounts of medications, allergy shots, & he was hospitalized several times for asthma & related illnesses. He had been given so many drugs, including steroids. He grew up in Hospital Emergency Rooms, & Doctor's Offices. The medications had horrendous effects on his mind & body. His behavior became extremely difficult & combative, but the alternative was to let him suffer & probably die from his illness. I put his life in the hands of God & the "specialists."

I started taking Kelly for counseling when he was about 7 years old. He seemed "different" from other children. He had anger with me for adopting him, & he had trouble with concentration at school. He didn't get along well, with other kids, & he was easily distracted. Counseling continued throughout much of his life. There were Psychiatrists, Psychologists, Children's Hospital's, Hope Haven, Tutors, special learning centers & Medical Doctors. The list is endless, & the cost was more than any parent should have to endure.

Around age 14 or 15, Kelly began to dabble in drugs. His friends brought him home one night unconscious. They laid him on the garage floor. Frantic, we rushed him to the hospital having no idea what was wrong! It was one of my biggest fears! Substance abuse.

When, sobering up, Kelly became extremely hostile to me- foul mouthed & angry. I knew I had, to do something before this went any farther. I began to seek out substance abuse professionals & did a lot of praying. My gut feeling was frightening; Kelly was in deep trouble! He must be stopped before he kills himself!

I tricked Kelly into going to a counseling session. I told him it was for family counseling. I still don't know how I pulled it off-- God was with me. Kelly was evaluated. I was informed that he was using drugs. In that tiny room, with no windows, the walls began to close around us. I listened to my heart pounding so loudly I thought it could be heard over the silence. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Kelly glaring at me with contempt. He'd just realized why he was there.

My icy cold hands trembled as I listened to the Nurse explain what would happen next. The voice inside my head kept asking questions. "What did she say about a strip search?" I tried to appear to be in control; I didn't want to cry. It couldn't be happening! I wanted to wake up & have it all be gone. I prayed for courage. I hoped it was the right decision. The Aides came & took Kelly to his unit where he would be locked up for the next several days. He would have no privileges, no phone calls, or visitations.

"Please," my inner voice cried, "Please, let me say good-bye to my son."

I ached to put my arms around him & make all the hurt go away. Kelly was looking at me with hate, in his eyes. What did I do? Where did I fail? What, made my, son turn to drugs & alcohol? I didn't know how to fix it, or make it, or make it better. Kelly was led, down the hall, to his room, he turned & looked, at me, pleading & begging me not to leave him.

"Please, Mom, let me at least come home & pack some of my clothes & we can come back, later."

I felt like my insides were being pulled & twisted. I swallowed hard & quietly, but firmly said, "No." I knew if I took Kelly home, he would run away, & I might lose him, forever.

Five months after that horrible day at the rehabilitation center, I was beginning to feel that I had my son back. He was doing his schoolwork, & he had a part time job. He seemed to be happy, & he was a lot healthier. Kelly was showing maturity & consideration for others. The caring Kelly showed other recovering kids touched me greatly. He had great dedication to his program & was working the steps toward recovery. I was in awe of the ease in which he presented facts about drugs to other kids when he spoke publicly. He was changing. Once again, I was proud to be his Mother.

Kelly had many relapses; he was in & out rehab, in & out of trouble. He was in his 20's, now, & his teenaged years were just a blur. He hadn't finished high school; he couldn't hold a job, and he drifted here & there, never finding anything positive in his life.

He had, also, been in & out of Job Cops. His Grandpa convinced him to try one more time to get his, G.E.D. He returned to Job Corps in another state, & he blossomed! He was class President & made a beautiful speech at his Graduation. He was well thought of by his peers as well as his teachers. He took Culinary Arts & was quite a good cook when he wanted to be. I was so proud of him that day, so filled with renewed hope that he would be able to be self sufficient, & independent, at last!

He had dreams, & I had hopes of a happy future for him. Through, Job Corps, he had a job waiting & arrangements to share an apartment. He had not been able to take care of himself up till now. There was a new life waiting for him. He was clean & sober; he had a positive educational experience & most of all, self- pride.

But, Kelly was lonely. He called me shortly before he left Job Corps to tell me he met a woman, & he said he was going to move in with her. I was afraid he would again become too dependent. I had hoped that Kelly would become established, first, & have something to offer a relationship. But, he was in love, & his mind was made up.

Kelly & Pat lived together for four years before they got married. Kelly was not able to hold a job. Pat was patient, loving, & generous. She bought him clothes, sent him on trips, gave him everything he wanted.

He, still, wasn't happy. They relocated to our hometown; Kelly wanted to be closer to his Family & Tacoma & Seattle, where they had season tickets to all the major sporting events. Kelly loved all kinds of sports. He was a great fan & he knew all the statistics on the players. Kelly had a great speaking voice. I always thought he should become a sports announcer.

One Super Bowl, Kelly invited me to their new home to watch the game. I wasn't particularly interested in football, & Kelly had a way of making me feel guilty for everything wrong in his life. I'd be depressed for days whenever we were together for very long. I told him I had to work. He must have sensed my avoidance, & he became angry & told me he'd never invite me to his home again! He never did. I was never given the opportunity to make it up to him.

The guilt is overwhelming, & there are times I 'm not sure I can make it to the next day. I tried to find some sort of support group for parents, whose children died from substance abuse. I felt so alone; I turned grief inward, & began to write Kelly's story.

June 29,1996, Kelly died in his home on the floor. Kelly & Pat had hired Tom to do some land- scaping. Kelly asked Pat to leave town; he didn't want her around the mess. The job was to be finished on Sunday. Pat spoke to Kelly, at 8:30 p.m. on Friday night, June 28th. He was agitated because Tom 's girlfriend Laura was supposed to have come by at 7 p.m. Kelly said it was her birthday, & they were going out to have a few beers to celebrate.

Saturday was as usual, in our household. I went shopping, with the Gift Certificate Kelly had given me for Mother's Day. It was the first time that he personally took the initiative to do something nice for me. He took his Grandma & me out to lunch & gave us each a very generous gift certificate. We had a won- derful time! Kelly seemed so mature, happy & settled. He remarked that he had seen Tom. He was out of jail & doing drugs. Kelly said that he was thankful all that was behind him. He said Tom was stupid for doing drugs. I sighed to myself, "Thank God, for Pat, at least Kelly isn't on drugs, anymore!"

We hugged & kissed goodbye. I told him I loved him & he responded likewise. That was the last time I saw him alive. That was Mother's Day, 1996.

We had talked on the phone occasionally; he even sent me a birthday gift. I was floored! He'd never done that before. I was once, again, having hope for him. He called me a few days later to see if I had received it? I told him I enjoyed the CD very much & could he come to a party my Mom was going to have, for me? He declined; he & Pat had other plans.

He said, "I love you, Mom." Those were the last words I would ever hear him speak.

For the last 2˝ years, I felt embarrassment, guilt, overwhelming grief. It was so unbearable; at times, I wished I would die. Not suicide--just die. As Kelly's story began to evolve, & I began to rewrite it on this used computer I was given, I began a search for other Mothers who had had their child die in this manner. I found a grief net! There was actually a category for parents, of children who died from, substance abuse. It saved my life! Suddenly, I had friends with no faces, but friends just the same. They understood my pain; they have been through it, too. I was finally able to express my grief, & no one rolled their eyes when I told them how my son died. They cared, they emailed me back, they supported me, & I, now, am able help someone in return. I am passionate to get Kelly's story told! A magazine article? A book, perhaps?

This story is for parents who say, "Not my kid." It's for the parents who are alone in grief & isolation & burdened with sadness & helplessness. It is for us, the parents whose children have died from substance abuse. It is for our children, a way of keeping them alive & making a purpose for their deaths. Most of all, it is for our living children, grandchildren, your children, all children. It is a story we want you to read, to take heed, and to make responsible decisions that could, quite possibly, affect the rest of your life.

Kelly died of a heroin overdose. The Coroner didn't think he had been using until that night. Kelly, was right handed; he had three needle marks in his right arm. That has raised many questions in my mind. Did he inject himself, or did someone else? Tom & Laura told the Sheriff they "partied," & when they went to bed, Kelly was alive, watching a video. Supposedly, they woke up around noon & then found Kelly on the floor, DEAD! They cleaned up their mess, & then they simply left him!

Several hours later they called the Sheriff to say there was a dead man & gave them Kelly's address. Laura was interviewed in person; Tom was interviewed over the phone. Tom said he had been drinking & he declined to come in for questioning because he had warrants out for his arrest. That was it! They are both, as far as I know, free & alive. Kelly is not. I miss his laugh, his joy of Christmas, I miss my beautiful, handsome, son!

Parents, please stay close to your children. If they are troubled, hold them closer. If you suspect drug abuse, find help. The system doesn't work, & won't until the laws can be changed to make addiction a medical problem, not a criminal offense. Too many children slip through the cracks! We must spend more money & time on saving our children, keeping them safe.

Statistics have shown it is easier to be cured of cancer than it is to cure addiction. We save the whales, we save the owls. Let's save our children! They are endangered species, too!