My Sis and I

My Sis and I
Summer on Alpena Street
One of my favorite sayings from the show Emily Owens, MD

"We make all these plans of how things will turn out; but life happens, plans change, so we adapt. We draw on strength we didn't know we had; we give up any illusions of control, and we deal head on with problems that come our way."




Friday, January 29, 2016

Sue Dobos-Paradise

Our life as we knew it forever changed one day and we found ourselves in an unexpected struggle – first just to survive and then to move forward.

When our son P.J. was in third grade, he let us know that he was going to be a Marine.  Being a patriotic family, we were thrilled yet filled with some apprehension thinking, “this is my child.” Keeping his promise, our son joined the Marines and trained here in Michigan with a group of guys all set to leave for boot camp in June of 2010.

PJ was incredibly smart.  When he tested for the Marines, he tested so high he was told, “you can do anything you want P.J.  You can go into the Air Force.”  His answer? “I want to go on the front lines.  I’m not coming in here just to push paper.”  He always wanted to be a hero.

 We had no idea the devastation that was to come.

Discharged

His first kidney stone incident occurred in December of 2009 followed by two more in the spring of 2010.  We had no clue this was a problem until a week before he was set to head out to boot camp.  The Marines requested his medical records and were given the hospital reports.  He was blindsided, as was his recruiter, when he was discharged from the Marines never entering boot camp.

At the age of 18, my son’s life-long dream was shattered.  

The discharge destroyed him.  He continued going to doctors asking for letters stating he no longer had kidney stones. PJ wanted to be a Marine more than anything, but to no avail.

Experimenting With Drugs

Prior to signing up for the Marines, as a teenager in high school, P.J. messed around with drugs some, like his friends. I received a call one day from the police station.  P.J. and his friends were stopped by the police for having marijuana in the truck.  “This can’t be P.J.’s”, I thought.  I was devastated when P.J. admitted that it was.

Life changed that day for us.  From this point on, we had him drug tested, worked with him and even got him counseling.  We took the initiative and worked with the police officer who had brought him in to the station.  This officer later became one of P.J.’s best friends.

Life After Discharge

Because of the prior experimenting with drugs in high school, setbacks began to happen after his discharge from the Marines. He was drinking, doing drugs and started using prescription Xanax.

PJ was a leader, had a ton of friends, never spoke back, but always seemed a little bit sad.  I think because of this sadness he began to self-medicate abusing Xanax within the year.

Downward Turn

Bigger issues arrived when P.J. turned 21.  He began to go to bars and even got a DUI.  Being a close family, working together in our concession business, we always kept an eye on him, but he now began to tell us only what he wanted us to hear.

Finishing up our summer concession business in October, we returned home from Indiana. At this time, P.J. was seeing a probation officer because of his DUI.  Coming back from checking in, he said, “everything’s good, everything went great.”  I got very angry with him because I knew he had been drinking.  I had hoped he would be honest with me, but he wasn’t. 

Sitting him down on the couch, I proceeded to read him the riot act.  I talked about his integrity, telling him that I loved him but I didn’t like him.  I didn’t like his attitude, his dishonesty, and his avoidance of the issues in his life.  I talked to him about not doing anything for his fellow man or his community.  We had a long talk. This conversation hurt him badly because he always wanted our praise.

The result of this: he packed up his belongings and left.  After spending time with his girlfriend that weekend, he went to his best friend’s house, whom he had grown up with, spending the night there.

The next morning, the friend’s mom called me and said, “PJ was supposed to work today, but he didn’t get up and go to work. I think you need to give him a call and tell him to go home”, she said. 

When my husband picked PJ up, he could tell something wasn’t right.  He was very tired, not able to get himself together and wake up.  He seemed confused.  My husband, Paul, called me and said, “meet me at the cop shop.”  Arriving at the cop shop, we met there with Archie, the aforementioned officer and friend, who counseled him.  Being a concerned mother, I said, “PJ do we need to go to the hospital?” PJ said “absolutely not. I’ve got a meeting tonight.”  We went home.

PJ showered and went to the meeting uptown at the Rock Church.  Coming home very excited, it looked like things might be on the verge of changing.  After doing a six-week rehab stay at Sacred Heart, PJ was going to work with Archie, the police officer, riding with him and getting his help to enter the Police Academy.

We had no idea that PJ had drugs on him.

The Devastating Loss

Seeing the effect Xanax had on PJ after his DUI, I called the doctor and said “take him off that Xanax.  Get him off that stuff”.  She took him off Xanax, but then he started buying it. 

Coming home from the NA meeting one evening, PJ was happy, even playing Nintendo with his dad downstairs.  We had gone to bed but PJ stayed up, not feeling tired.  Apparently he had been texting and talking to friends until 4:00 in the morning, according to his phone.

We had no idea, until later, that PJ had been looking to get more Xanax that day.  He had asked around finding a girl he knew whose mother had Klonopin.  “It’s just like Xanax”, she said.  PJ went to pick up the Klonopin and took it – not knowing the risk of mixing Xanax and Klonopin together.  Xanax stays in your system for three hours and is gone.  Klonopin, however, builds up and is time-released.

Not feeling tired at 4:00 a.m., PJ took more Klonopin.

It’s the craziest thing, I get up every morning at 9:00, but this particular morning, I woke up at 7:00.  I believe the Holy Spirit woke me up.

Getting my morning coffee, my husband came upstairs and said, “what are you doing up at this time?”  My reply, “I have no clue.”  “Well, you’ve got to see how PJ is sleeping.  It’s so cute”, he said.

Instantly, I felt a wave of panic sweep over me and knew something was wrong, even before I took the steps downstairs.

Sitting Indian-style on the floor was always the way PJ would sit, and this is how I found him.  Close by he had some things scattered on the floor that he had been looking at.  Coming up behind him, I said, “PJ wake up. You need to go lie down.  Wake up.”

Wiggling him a little bit, he didn’t wake up.

Coming around in front of him, I immediately spoke to my husband “call 911.”

He just fell asleep.  I’m very blessed that he fell asleep.  I never would have imagined that an accidental drug overdose would happen to one of my children.  We were devastated, of course, as a family.  PJ was the youngest out of four children.  He left behind a family grappling with the overwhelming loss of a beloved son and a brother who passed away at 21 years of age, November 5th, just seven weeks before his 22nd birthday.

Our Life After Death

The day after we lost PJ, our pastor from The Rock church came over to our home.  He read from the Bible the passage about there being no tears in heaven and no mourning.  This was one of the first things that saved me, helping me tremendously to know that he wasn’t suffering anymore. There was no crying, no pain in Heaven.

At PJ’s memorial service, mothers would come up to me and just hold me saying “I lost a child too.”  What a lifeline for me but also thinking “how are you still here?”  I was positive I was going to die or wind up in the hospital insane.  These comforting words spoken to me gave me hope because they went through it, survived and were now passing that hope back to me.

Through Facebook, more women contacted me telling me their stories of how they lived through the loss of a child.

Three weeks after PJ’s death, I was sitting in my home office wanting to do some banking on my computer.  I couldn’t remember my password.  My husband walked into the office and said “speaking of passwords, did you figure out PJ’s?  Maybe there’s something we need to read in his emails.”  Putting his password in, I proceeded to read his emails, mostly to girls.  “This is not my son”, I thought.  Having my first doubt, I said to my husband, “what if he’s not in heaven?”  I completely broke down.

I’ve always been strong, not crying a lot.  When I pulled myself together, I suddenly thought to look in the top drawer of my dresser for my password.  There was no reason I would have it there, but I searched anyway.  Reaching towards the back of my dresser, I found a letter folded up.  I don’t usually put letters in my dresser but in a cedar chest or my Bible, but here it was.  PJ had written a letter to himself in the eighth grade.  Within this letter, PJ writes “I go to church every Wednesday and Sunday.  God is my Savior and I am also saved, which means I’ve accepted Jesus as my personal Savior.”

Confirmation - strong and sure.  PJ was saved and knew what it meant.

Calling my younger sister, who is a strong believer, I asked her how this could happen that I found this letter.  She said “God works upstream” – meaning that all these things were done and put where they needed to go for me to find later and help me get through this.

Grieving is a good thing.  It’s the way we get through the many changes in life. 

Two days after I found this letter, these grieving thoughts continued – “what if PJ is all alone and he misses me?” Walking into my bedroom, I found a picture of my dad, my grandma and PJ together.  My dad and grandma are in heaven. “Why didn’t I see this picture before now?” I thought. “How could I have missed it?”  Again, I understood that this was God working upstream, assuring me that PJ was not alone but surrounded by love.

My Passion

I want to tell other women who have lost a child that God works upstream.  If they will look, they will find these little things as well to bring them hope.  Don’t doubt them when you see them.

Every time I found something of PJ’s, it gave me hope to keep going.  They were stepping stones for me.  It still is happening.

I started collecting these little things I would find – a card, a letter, just little miracles I found.  I am now journaling about it and maybe one day will put them together to help other people.

It is my hope that a grieving mother will read our story and find the courage to look for the signs left for her.  In allowing our God to work upstream, she will find much needed comfort and assurance. 

It is God's promise to help us in our time of grief, if we will but let Him into our grieving heart.

In memory of P.J.







Interviewed, written & edited by Sharon Garner