Like many families, we believed addiction could never happen to ours.
We thought we understood the dangers of drugs. We talked about making good decisions. We believed love, guidance, and a strong family foundation would be enough.
We were wrong!
Aaron's journey reminds us that addiction does not always begin with illegal drugs or reckless choices. Sometimes it begins with a prescription written by a healthcare professional.
Aaron had ADHD, and his mind was always racing. His thoughts seemed to move a thousand miles a minute, making it incredibly difficult for him to quiet his mind and fall asleep. Like many people living with ADHD, restful sleep was often a challenge.
Seeking relief from his chronic insomnia, Aaron was prescribed Ambien® to help him sleep. What was intended to be a short-term treatment gradually became long-term use. Over time, his body became physically dependent on the medication.
When his original physician eventually discontinued the prescription, the physical dependence remained. Because his body had become dependent on the medication, Aaron later continued treatment with other healthcare providers, and the dependence continued for several more years.
Looking back, I often wonder how different Aaron's life might have been if the focus had shifted earlier from continuing the prescription to helping him safely manage his dependence and begin recovery.
I share this part of Aaron's story not to assign blame, but because I hope another family may recognize the warning signs sooner and seek help earlier than we did.
Addiction does not always begin with illegal drugs. Sometimes it begins with a legitimate medical condition, a prescription intended to help, and a dependence that develops over time. My hope is that by sharing what our family experienced, another family may recognize the warning signs earlier, ask questions, seek help, and find support before addiction takes hold.
Although addiction became part of Aaron's story, it was never the whole story. Aaron wanted his life back, and he was taking steps toward recovery.
Most people who are prescribed medication do not develop a substance use disorder. Prescription medications improve and save countless lives every day when used appropriately and under the guidance of qualified healthcare professionals.
Research has shown that some individuals have a greater vulnerability to developing addiction because of a combination of genetic factors, brain chemistry, mental health conditions, personal experiences, trauma, and environmental influences. These factors do not mean a person will develop an addiction, but they may increase their susceptibility.
Living with ADHD and chronic insomnia added challenges that affected Aaron's daily life, but those conditions alone did not determine his future. Like many complex health conditions, addiction developed through a combination of factors rather than a single cause.
Aaron's story is one family's experience. We share it to encourage education, awareness, early intervention, compassionate care, and open conversations—not to discourage anyone from seeking appropriate medical treatment when it is needed.
He lost jobs.
He lost his apartment.
He lost a relationship.
He lost his dog.
He became someone who sometimes made choices that embarrassed him.
But addiction never took away the person he truly was.
He was still kind.
Still intelligent.
Still compassionate.
Still patient.
Still generous.
Still deeply loved.
That is one of the most important lessons I want families to understand.
A person struggling with addiction is still someone's child.
Still someone's brother.
Still someone's friend.
Still worthy of love, dignity, compassion, and hope.
One of the greatest misconceptions about addiction is that people do not want help.
Aaron did.
He wanted his life back.
Not long before we lost him, Aaron sat down with his father and me and apologized.
He told us he was embarrassed by some of the things he had done while struggling with addiction.
He said he knew we had raised him better than that.
He wished none of it had ever happened.
We told him we knew exactly who he was.
We knew addiction was not the person we had raised.
We reminded him that every person makes mistakes and that God's love does not disappear because we fall.
Just as God loves us through our imperfections, our love for Aaron had never changed and never would.
Aaron had begun trying to stop using drugs.
He told me,
"Mom, I can do this."
He called me and told me how sick withdrawal had become.
We made a plan.
Monday morning I would take him to the hospital myself.
I wanted to be there because a previous hospital visit had not resulted in the help he needed, and I wanted to make sure this time he was admitted for treatment.
The plan was simple.
Hospital.
Recovery.
Rehabilitation.
Then he would move home with me while we helped him rebuild his life.
Aaron wanted a fresh start.
He talked about moving to Florida with us.
He wanted to live near the ocean.
He wanted to begin again.
We never made it to Monday morning.
Aaron died just hours before we were supposed to leave for the hospital.
I think about that morning every single day.
After After losing Aaron, I spent countless hours learning everything I could about addiction, withdrawal, fentanyl, recovery, trauma, and the healthcare system.
I learned things I wish I had known while Aaron was still here.
I learned that withdrawal can be physically and emotionally overwhelming. Depending on the substance involved, it can place tremendous stress on the body and, in some cases, lead to serious medical complications affecting the heart, brain, and other organs. Some forms of withdrawal can be life-threatening and require immediate medical attention.
I learned that no one should have to face withdrawal alone. Whenever possible, people should seek guidance from qualified healthcare professionals and have compassionate support from family, friends, or caregivers. Sometimes the most important thing we can do is simply stay with someone, encourage them, help them remain hydrated if appropriate, offer comfort, and make sure they receive the medical care they need.
I learned that recovery often requires medical treatment, counseling, long-term support, patience, and tremendous compassion.
Most importantly, I learned that love alone is not always enough.
Families need education.
People need access to treatment.
Communities need to replace stigma with understanding.
I have spent countless hours asking myself what I could have done differently. The truth is, I simply did not understand addiction, withdrawal, or how desperately Aaron needed support during that time. I did not know then what I know now.
One of the greatest burdens I carry is wondering whether I could have done more. I live with that question every day of my life. I wish I had understood how physically and emotionally devastating withdrawal could be. I wish I had known how frightened, exhausted, and vulnerable he must have felt. I wish I had understood that he needed more than love—he needed medical care, support, and someone who understood what he was going through.
There are no words to describe the pain of believing you were not there for your child in the way you wish you could have been. That heartbreak is something I carry with me every single day.
That realization—and the hope that no other family will have to live with these same questions—is why the GOOSE Foundation exists.
There are parts of Aaron's journey that are incredibly painful to revisit. But I share them because I hope another family recognizes the warning signs sooner. I hope another parent asks one more question. I hope another son or daughter asks for help. I hope another family finds treatment before it is too late.
I cannot change what happened to Aaron. But I can share what I have learned so that other parents, families, healthcare professionals, educators, and communities better understand addiction, recognize the warning signs sooner, reduce stigma, and know how to support someone they love.
If sharing Aaron's story helps even one family avoid the heartbreak our family lives with every day, then Aaron's legacy will continue to save lives.
Every day, I wish I could go back with the knowledge I have today.
I cannot change Aaron's story, but I can choose what I do with the lessons he taught me.
I choose to remember.
I choose to educate.
I choose to reduce stigma.
I choose to support families.
I choose to fight for those still struggling.
Most of all, I choose to make sure Aaron's life is remembered not for the way it ended, but for the extraordinary young man he was and the lives he continues to touch.
If Aaron's story helps even one person seek help, one parent ask another question, or one family keep their loved one, then his legacy will continue to make a difference for generations to come.
GOOSE Foundation
Grieve Openly. Overcome Stigma. Embrace help.
Every Life Matters.
Every Name Matters.
Every Family Matters.