The Epidemic...

Part One.

Typically my blogs have been somewhat light hearted.  Even whimsical at times.  

Now, I want to share a bit about something that has hit very close to my home through a two-part blog. 

A bit of background:  

I grew up in a military family.  My mother and father came from small town Arkansas. My mother grew up in  Dyess, Arkansas.  And yes my mother knew Johnny Cash. Even graduated high school with him.  She was the youngest of five girls and was raised on a cotton farm. 

My father was the oldest of nine and grew up in a dollar poor but family rich environment.  He dropped out of high school after 8th grade, but my grandfather worked him near to death on the farm so he decided high school was a better option.  He was a football and basketball star in Joiner, Arkansas.  

As a military family it is not unusual to move a lot.  And so we did.  We lived in several different states and countries. I have no complaints about my childhood, except maybe one.    And that is that we were always far away from grand parents, aunts, uncles and cousins.  

I only have 3 cousins and children of cousins and children of children of cousins. on my mother's side of the family.  I am the youngest cousin.

I really am not sure how many cousins I have on my father's side of the family. I just recently visited one of my aunts and several cousins. 

I have this large family that I know nothing about.  We are connected by blood, DNA.... Yet don't know each other.  

So what does it matter...

In January my cousin's daughter's son died of an overdose of heroin.  The semantics of who that is to me doesn't matter.  What matters is the relationship, the blood, the DNA.

He was 28 years old.  He was a musical artist.  He was extremely smart.  And he was addicted to heroin and xanax.  His road to this addiction is neither here nor there.  He fought his own demons as they say.  But what has struck me, like a bat to the head, is the loss, the sadness, the hurt to my own family.  

My sweet cousin, (actually, cousin once removed) lost her oldest child to this horrible epidemic. My own guilt of not being involved or even in contact with my family, though extended, has spurred me into some action.  I am working on keeping in contact with family and trying to get to know those I have never even met.  

But that is not what I want to share. In Part two I will get to the point.

I promise....

My grandparents with their 9 children

My father is the first one next to their mother.