Wyatt struggled with his addiction for about 10 years. I tried so hard to help him get better. He had overdosed twice before this. Those times thankfully, I found him in time and he was saved and rushed to the hospital. He went into four different rehab centers in three years. This last time when he came home, he was different. He wasn't his usual happy, healthy self. He was seeing a psychiatrist who had prescribed him some medications to deal with depression. Those medications took his spark away. He passed away just three weeks ago from using Fentanyl. I had been at work. I came home and found him on the floor in his room. No matter how much CPR I did and how much the first-responders worked on him, it was too late this time. And my heart is broken. He was such an amazing person. He was so smart, so kind, and caring and I'll always remember him that way. Not with the disease. I miss him so much. I used to get "Good morning Madre!" texts from him every morning. I miss those texts. I wish I could hug him one last time and tell him how genuinely loved he is. I wasn't ready for him to be gone. I know no one ever really is ready to lose a loved one. He struggled with more than just the addiction, he had depression and anxiety. And now I pray that he is truly at peace and watching over us.