I still mother them….

Today I got Gabriella’s cause of death.

An overdose.

Those two words hit me like a freight train.

For almost four months, I’ve lived with not knowing. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I think I was hoping for a different answer. Today I got one, and instead of bringing me peace, it brought me right back to April 3rd.

Only this time, the grief felt different.

It was like the Band-Aid that had finally started to stick was ripped off, and the wound started bleeding all over again. Not the way it did the day she died. In a completely different way.

I was angry.

Not at Gabriella.

At addiction.

She knew what Vincent’s death did to me. She knew what it did to our family. She knew what it did to herself. My heart just kept asking, How?

And then, almost immediately, another part of me answered.

Because addiction is an insidious disease.

I’ve spent the last nine years saying those words to other families. I’ve stood in front of audiences. I’ve said them at meetings. I’ve looked parents in the eyes and reminded them that addiction doesn’t care how much someone is loved. It doesn’t care how much someone knows. It doesn’t care how many promises were made or how badly someone wanted a different life.

Today, I needed to hear my own words.

One of the hardest parts of today wasn’t opening the report.

It was having to tell Adriano and Gianna how their mom died.

No grandmother should ever have to have that conversation.

It wasn’t what I saw.

It was what I heard.

Their voices.

Their questions.

The silence between the words.

Those are the sounds I’ll carry with me.

Tonight, if I’m being completely honest, I feel like I failed both of my children.

How do you lose two children to the same disease?

How do you spend years trying to educate people, trying to save lives, trying to make a difference… and still lose both your son and your daughter?

Those questions have been running through my head all day.

But I also know something else.

Pain looks for someone to blame.

Tonight, it picked me.

The truth is, I loved Vincent with everything I had.

I loved Gabriella with everything I had.

I still do.

I still mother them both.

I say their names.

I tell their stories.

I love their children.

I fight every single day so another family might be spared this pain.

None of that changed what addiction did to my children.

And that’s the hardest part to accept.

If love could have saved them, they would both still be here.

I know there are parents reading this who have asked themselves the same questions I’m asking tonight.

What if I had…

I should have…

Why didn’t I…

I don’t have the answers.

Tonight, I just have a broken heart.

A heart that’s grieving all over again.

A heart that’s trying to reconcile everything I know about addiction with everything I feel as a mom.

Maybe tomorrow I’ll have more clarity.

Tonight, I just miss my children.

Both of them.

And tonight, that’s enough. 💚