February 18, 2026
How did you stay sober after losing a loved one?
I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m not an expert on grief, but I hope reading about my experience will be helpful.
I lost my oldest son, Matt, in December 2023. Even more than two years later, I’m still in shock. Sometimes it feels like it happened yesterday
When I talk to others who have experienced the loss of a loved one, especially the women I coach in prison, sometimes they’ll ask me, “How did you survive?”
It’s difficult even now to say how I’ve gotten through it.
When Matt died, I was in shock. And when I say in shock, I mean shock. In the early days, I went to work and got through my tasks on autopilot.
But once I got home from work, I’d find myself on the couch thinking, “I can’t believe this is my life.” I’d try to focus on a movie and do my best to get through the day. Trying to live but not knowing how to go on without your loved one. I would talk to my son, and I prayed a lot.
My dog deserves so much credit for getting me through that time. Whenever I’d start to cry he would stay close to me.
It’s taken a year and a half to feel like I have a little more control, my grief is a part of me now. I still cry four to five mornings out of each week.
Daily remembrance
What helped me most as I moved out of those early days was starting a daily practice of remembrance.
I get up every morning, and I light sage near a collection of my son’s pictures, letters he wrote to me and Mother’s Day cards. I smudge that whole area, I smudge myself, I pray. I grab a handful of tobacco, and I take it outside with me to look at the sun while I’m praying.
I’ll sprinkle a little bit of tobacco in each cardinal direction: north, south, east and west. I thank the creator for 37 years with my son.
It helps me feel stronger, and it reminds me to be grateful for the time I had with him.
This ritual is specific to me and my culture, but there are many ways you can honor and remember your loved one. I think it’s important to be intentional and set time aside as often as you can.
The same is true for holidays. In my family, we have pictures of those we’ve lost at the table with us. We’ll set a plate for them with a little bit of every dish on it. We include them in our conversation, and we share memories. It helps us heal as a family.
Relapse
When I received the news about Matt’s passing, I wanted to get high for just a nanosecond. It was an involuntary reaction, even though I had been sober for 13 years at the time. My soul, my brain, my body wanted relief from the pain and heartache I was experiencing. The part of me that remembers my addiction spoke loud and clear. Telling me to get high and ease the pain.
In the next moment, I heard my son’s voice. I heard him say, “Awe, c’mon, Mom.” He always used to say that to me if I was overreacting or being negative. I felt so proud to be his mother, to present his life achievements and his extraordinary soul as he made his journey into the spirit world. It was an honor to do it with a clear mind.
These memories bring me comfort. And if I can survive my son’s death without a relapse, I can survive anything else life throws at me.
He’d want me to continue to help others. He’d want me to use my pain and negative experiences in a positive way.
I also had support right away from my mom and four lifelong friends. They were strong for me. They surrounded me with love and accountability.
I still lean on my mom, those four friends, my significant other, coworkers and siblings. I also stay in touch with Matt’s best friends, the friends he grew up with. They’re grown now, but I’m there for them and they’re there for me. They still call me Matt’s mom.
As I grieve, it’s important to find people I can truly rely on. I know the shoulders I can cry on, and I know the shoulders that need me.
Every person’s grief is different, and it will probably change over time. Please reach out for support if you need it. There are counselors, support groups, books, podcasts, peer coaches like me – take what you need.
I hope you’re able to find peace and comfort in this challenging time.