Demitri  Mustaca

Demitri Mustaca


Demitri was the love of my life, my first grandson. He was born when I was 39. My daughter was a single mom. Dad chose not to be in his life. Our very close family welcomed him with open arms and raised him together. He was the little brother to his uncles. He was very loving, caring, and a boundless ball of energy. First and foremost, he loved his family to no end. He loved basketball, the outdoors, hiking, fishing, and hunting.

Photo submitted by
Lisa Mustaca
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My grandson (who was more like a son to me) passed in California from fentanyl poisoning. It was horrendous for me and my family waiting days on end and not receiving calls back. There was a coroner/police investigation (well that’s what they called it but of course it went nowhere) and then transporting him to a mortuary so they could do their job. It was almost a week before we could get him back to AZ.

During this time I prayed it wasn’t him. I texted him repeatedly begging him to answer me! Convincing myself it wasn’t him.

The day finally arrived and I went to the funeral home. Of course it was him. The authorities had identified him from day one. I was so relieved to have him back. I hugged him, I cried, kissed him, talked to him; all the while trying to warm him up. This now has become my most vivid memory of him. 😢

We had an open casket/viewing so friends and loved ones could say goodbye. When everyone was gone I had to be dragged from there. I didn’t want to leave him. I feel tremendous guilt from feeling relieved to have him home.

Memories can be so precious and also so horribly painful.

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