The worst phone call of my life

7 years ago I got the worst phone call of my life.

I was at the gym with my friend when I got a weird call from my grandpa.

He was vague with any details, but insistent that I come home immediately. He was a traditional “macho man”, so it was out of place to hear his voice sound so distressed.

I had a hunch what this was about, but I didn’t want to believe it.

15 minutes later, I pulled up to my driveway to find a cop car parked out front.

“Fuck” I thought to myself.

I knew the moment I entered that house, my life was going to be flipped upside down.

As I opened the door, I saw a cop talking to my brother and grandparents.

Nobody had to say anything.

With one look, I broke down into tears.

My brother hugged me tight.

She was gone.

The cop told me my mother died from a fentanyl-laced crack overdose.

I just remember crying and saying “fuck” out loud constantly.

I knew this day was likely coming, but I didn’t want to believe it.

For the 6 years leading up to that point, she was spiraling downward. Alcohol turned into cocaine, cocaine turned into crack.

She lost everything to her addiction.

All her money, my little sisters, and her happiness.

Toward the end, she was homeless. Hell, she was hardly recognizable to the mother who raised me so well.

Worst of all, the last time I saw her was when she was homeless on the street.

I was with my friends leaving a music festival and walked right past her without saying a damn word because I didn’t want to make a scene.

She died a week later.

Not acknowledging her in that moment is my biggest regret in life.

Because of it, I’ve carried a lot of anger and guilt toward myself.

And for many years, Christmas was a hard time for me because it was a reminder of those not in my life anymore.

But now I view things a bit differently.

Christmas is a reminder of who’s in my life now.

It’s easy to look at the past and wish it was different, but the only thing I can do is appreciate what’s in my life today.

10 years from now, my grandma will likely be gone.

25 years from now, my brother will likely be gone (he has a serious health condition called Cystic Fibrosis).

And who knows what other crazy shit life will throw at me or my loved ones.

With me being away all the time, I don’t know how many more get-togethers I’m going to have with those closest to me.

So, I choose to be grateful for the time I’ve been given.

I know some of you reading probably have a similar situation. But I just wanted to take a moment to remind y’all to cherish your time here.

Take a moment to tell your friends and family how much you appreciate them. Because you’ll rarely get notice of when you’ll never see them again.

Merry Christmas from your Canadian friend.

-Dakota