The National Addiction Memorial honors the loved ones we’ve lost.

Randy was an all around guy. He was a social butterfly; anywhere he went he knew somebody there. He could do anything he wanted to. His addiction inhibited him from being the person he was meant to be. He left behind two children, Rhiannon (me) and Rayden at the ages of 14 and 11. Addiction took away Randy's ability to watch his kids grow into adults and live their lives. He was very loved. He is missed by all everyday.

My brother, Shane, had such a big heart. He was a people person who could get along with anyone. He had this easygoing confidence about him that I always admired. I miss his smile, his sense of humor and the way he cared for others. Shane saw the good in people and was there to help his friends in need. I miss his friendship and the fun we had growing up. He's been gone almost a year now and it's hard to believe. I picture the life he would have lived, the life that was taken from him, because of addiction. There are no words to convey the grief. Shane was a beautiful, complicated soul and I hope he knows how much his life meant to so many. He will always be in the hearts and memory of those who knew and loved him. Shane was, and is, SO loved.

In 1996, when I was 19 yrs old, I met the love of my life. We dated for a few years before parting ways. In 2016, 20 years later, our hearts reunited, and we discovered that through all the distance and time we both had still been in love with each other. We truly were soul mates and wasted no time in starting a new life together. During the next few years we created so many beautiful memories. It felt like a dream come true for the both of us. But Jaime had been struggling with an addiction for most of his life and even with the love we shared there where some very dark days and days when I didn’t recognize the man that I loved so dearly. The drugs took over and there was no stopping them and the damage they did, mentally, physically and emotionally. Jaime fought every day though to be the man he really wanted to be, and he said that was the man he was when he was with me. He would tell me that he was going to be a better man for me or die trying. He felt that our love could conquer all and at times, on the good days, it really did. After being sober for almost 6 months, we were both hopeful for our future and “living our best lives together.” We got engaged on New Years Eve 2020. It was one the happiest days of my life. But only a week later, Jan 7th, 2020, Jaime relapsed, his heart stopped, and he spent the next 7 days in ICU on breathing machines with very little to no brain function. On Jan 14th, 2020 his family and I made the heart wrenching decision to take him off the machines. He often told me “You were my first true love and will be my last true love, until I take my last breath”, and surrounded by his family and myself he took his final breath, as I stroked his head and watched the color of life fade from his face and body. It was the worst day of my life. He was only 40 yrs old. Jaime’s fight was also my fight, and although we lost the battle together in the end, I learned so much from him and about addiction and how a person is NOT their addiction. He was far from that, he had a heart of gold, he was always there for everyone and made me a better person and strengthened my faith and relationship with God. He called me his “Earth Angel” but I don’t think he realized what an angel he was to me. I was honored and privileged to have his love and to fall in love with him over and over again. I am so grateful that I got to share the last few years of his life with him. No one can ever take that away or the beautiful memories he left me with that I will cherish forever.

John loved his children more than anything in this world. His two girls Chloe and Alicia where the light in his life. He was the best friend anyone could ask for. He's personally my best friend. He loved his family and his friends. Often goofy, he would do anything to put a smile on your face, after all he was born on April Fools Day. I want to call him daily but I am unable to anymore. To know him was to love him. We all miss you.

Kellie was my little sister. She was very outgoing, she was always laughing and making others laugh. She was diagnosed with pancreatic cystic fibrosis at a later age after being told her whole life that it was just asthma. Kellie was in alot of pain especially in the last few years of her life. She was an AMAZING daughter, sister, and mother. She loved her son so very much. Kellie is so very much missed by us all. Addiction does not have a face. It is a very real and scary thing. I miss hearing Kellie snort when she laughed, We all miss her so very much.

He was a brother, son and friend and was so loved by everybody!

James was our first-born. Our pride and joy. Was talking by 1 years old, began to read at 2. He loved to sing and play guitar, singing in the school and church choir for many years.
He was loved by everyone; easy-going, witty, quick to laugh. James loved the outdoors; camping & hiking. He was passionate about music, all genres, but especially the obscure stuff, it was fun learning from him. Tim & James played guitar together; oh, how I’ll miss that and hearing he and his sisters sing together.
He was a smart, immensely talented young man. But he struggled with anxiety and depression which led to his addiction. He fought it for years with multiple stints in rehabs and recovery communities. He had recently found more peace through practicing mindfulness. He found support through AA and a job with a company that supported guys in recovery. What led to this relapse and his death, we will never know. But I am forever thankful for the meaningful and positive conversations we got to have together the past couple of months.
We will forever miss his grin, his laugh, his great hugs. I will miss watching him graduate college, getting married, having kids. Drugs stole all of those things from us.
James leaves behind his parents, Tim and Ruth, younger sisters Audrey and Katie, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and extended family; and countless friends.

His nickname was "Mikey" and he was my son's father and my best friend. We first met as teenagers and we were both involved in drugs. He was in and out of jail including federal prison. I had a crush on him since we first met. I thought he was adorable and he kept me from being ripped off by someone he knew. Several years later, after he had just gotten out of federal prison and I was going back to school at a community college, we hooked up. We decided to start seeing each other. We shared a few weeks of clean time together before he went to a federal drug and alcohol treatment facility as part of his court requirements. I was prescribed pain pills at the time for a car accident that I had two years prior. After I dropped him off at this treatment facility in Philadelphia I got into a car accident. I had taken too much pain medicine and it caused me to nod out in a traffic jam. During a nod I hit the driver in front of me. Fortunately no one in their vehicle was injured but I had totaled my car. Mikey was devastated as he was in this facility and could not be with me. He was always taking care of me. My grandmother died a week after I got out of the hospital and I moved up to my father's place in the mountains, three hours away from where I am originally from and that much further away from Mikey. When he got out of the federal treatment facility he came up to me and moved in. We lived there for about two years. He stayed by me and we both remained clean. The only thing that got in the way was the pain medicine that I had been on for the car accidents I was in. We had had enough of the mountains and decided to move back to Lancaster county. No sooner we came back then we started using again with people that we were friends with. It didn't last long because I went to jail for a retail theft and he had gone to rehab. When we both got out we moved in together again with a friend of the family. Several months later I found out I was pregnant. This was wonderful news to me because I had wanted to have children so badly but was told that it would be difficult for me to have children even if I could because of the endometriosis I was diagnosed with. I went through my 20's believing that I would never have children, and Mikey stayed by my side as I went through depression and back pain from accidents and taking pain pills in front of him but never going out to find drugs for himself. So now I'm finally pregnant. At this time, we are both on MAT. He was on Suboxone and I was on Methadone. It was working beautifully for both of us. After our baby boy was born I decided I wanted to get off of Methadone because we were traveling into a clinic daily to get my dose. I was lugging our baby in the extreme temperature and weather conditions and on public transportation to go a half hour away to this clinic. We had to catch two buses to get there. Mikey was always at our side carrying the stroller and the diaper bag when we got on and off of buses. We were a family. As I was tapering off of Methadone for some reason we decided to do some dope again. This was years after we'd been on MATs. What it came down to was I was able to stop. I was still on Methadone and I could stop the taper from dropping anymore and go back up if I needed. Mikey lost his Suboxone and started being away from home more for longer periods of time. I knew I couldn't just stop while he was still living with me because of people, places, and things. It was too much of a temptation for me. I didn't want to lose our baby due to Children and Youth. I made him move out after discussing it with my mother. It broke my heart to do it and I can still see his face when I told him what was happening. He was so hurt. That wasn't the end of us though. He came back often because he didn't have anywhere to stay and I couldn't stand to think of him being out in the cold or whatever extreme it may have been at the time. All I could imagine was finding out that he died in the woods somewhere because he froze to death. I loved him so much and I wanted him to come back home. I told him if he'd just get help and start working that he could come back home to us. I've thought it over so many times. Was I unfair or asking too much? He was a grown man and at the time he could have gone to his mother's and gotten a job. After several years of being on the street and in and out of rehabs I got a call from the coroner's office telling me that he was found dead. He had just left a rehab with an administrative discharge. He tried calling me but because I had him on speaker phone he hung up on me and died two days later. Both my son and I are heartbroken. He was probably trying to come home to us again and died on the way. I can't let my son lose his mother too. I refuse to leave my son for this disease any longer. I am now on Suboxone and I won't be getting off of another MAT just because I don't think I need it anymore. This is a lifelong disease. I want to be with my family for the rest of my life.

John was an amazing husband, a wonderful father and a devoted son who struggled with addiction for most of his adult life. He was the most intelligent person I have ever known with a heart of gold and a quick wit. I miss his sense of humor and his calm demeanor most. When he decided he could not struggle anymore, he intentionly overdosed. He was an organ donor and thus gave 6 people the “Gift of Life” just before Christmas 2018. We miss him so much!

Josh was a very giving person with a huge heart. He was always was fun to hang around with. He could play the guitar very well. There were many times we would go camping and sing around the fire. Josh stayed clean for a long time. Unfortunately the disease got the better of him. He was a great friend.

Joey was my best friend, my buddy, a sour patch kid and a teddy bear on the inside. He had a tough exterior but deep down, he was a softie. There will never be another like him. He was the one I went to for guidance. He would always remind me to stay positive and to do what was best for me. I miss him with every fiber of my being. Joey taught me that “life is what you make it..there’s no ultimate goal and no telling when you’ll be gone, so get to where you’re comfortable and can maintain happiness with longevity.”

Jimmy was a goofball with a heart of gold. He was the protective big brother who was always teasing his brother and sisters. When I’d have a bad day, he would check up on me and remind me that he would always be there for me. No matter what life threw his way, he was always smiling. His smile lit up any room he entered and to this day, I wonder if he knew. I’ll always wish we could’ve had more time. Jimmy taught me to cherish every moment with those I love.

Macauly was the youngest of four brothers. He started his struggle with addiction at 16 because one of his friends said "heroin is no big deal". Drugs have a way of capturing those who suffer inadequacies, low self-esteem and social anxiety brought on by trauma, however subtle, in school and at home. Macauly was the most loving baby and child until around grade school when he started being depressed and angry. He just wanted to be accepted for himself, fit in and have classmates and friends like him. He was put in therapy and we focused on his happiness but nothing seemed to work for him. Macauly was smart, creative, musical, stubborn, quiet with a sharp wit. He loved non-fiction books, documentaries, video games, and animals, especially his cat, Rajah Cheesesteak. He amazed us with his math skills and solving a Rubik's Cube faster than anyone, and his ability to play piano and guitar without lessons or reading music. He loved music. It was his life. From oldies to hip hop, especially hip hop. He created beats and rap music. He DJ'd professionally and for his mother in her car on road trips. He knew a lot and a little about everything. Religion, US and world politics, geography, history, nature, current events. He wanted to be a math teacher, an accountant, or work in the music industry. He would have made a difference. Although socially awkward around a lot of strangers, Mack was funny and fun around family and friends. He had a great smile and laugh. He loved his friends and family and would do anything for anyone. He had great empathy for everyone; mostly because he knew what it was like to be down and misunderstood. He struggled with addiction, but really his whole family struggled with him. He knew we all loved him. We were always there for him. It was not enough. Macauly wanted to be reincarnated as a praying mantis. The night we got the call that he died, we were out of the country in Grenada. While trying to sleep, a praying mantis landed on my hand and kept coming at me until I had to jump out of bed to get away. For his first birthday without him, eight of our family members went together and got praying mantis tattoos in his memory. The world is calmer but dimmer without him.

Macauly Memorial on YouTube

Graham was the most caring person. He would do anything to help out. He was funny, too. Always came back with a quick saying. Graham was lost and didn't know how he got in this world. He turned to drugs and alcohol to ease his pain. Drugs won the battle.

We had to say goodbye to our sweet brother, Benjamin Wilkey, on Monday night. This is incredibly tragic and painful for our family, and it has left us all feeling empty and lost. Ben was just 27 years old. He loved his family, he was one of the funniest people I’ve ever met, and he was full of life. Addiction does not discriminate against age, race, gender or social class. It is killing our children and young people and ripping families apart. I realize that most people would leave this part out, but I’m sick of ignoring it. I want to expose it for what it is. It’s nasty, and it kills, steals, and destroys the ones affected by it. Ben, we love you. You made an everlasting impact on those who knew you. You will never be forgotten and we will honor your memory forever. This YouTube video was 7 years ago when Ben had gotten clean of drugs and alcohol for a period time. He discusses his path to addiction and how he had then gotten clean. The local paper from our hometown of Columbus, Georgia interviewed him. It’s absolutely heartbreaking for me to watch it now, but shows the power addiction takes over a person’s life. Also, it’s just nice hearing my baby brother’s voice one last time. I’ve always been an advocate for addiction recovery because of my experiences with my brothers and husband. If you thought I talked about it a lot before, you can imagine how much I’ll be talking about it now. Now it’s claimed Ben’s life and left us with a void that can never be filled....like a leg kicked out from under a table, our family will never stand the same way again. He was irreplaceable. 💔

Best daddy in the world! Best partner in the world. Loved unconditionally.

I am so overwhelmed by this loss, I don't even know where to begin. My heart is broken, and my soul aches. A million memories play over and over in my mind. I smile when I think of my favorite cousin, I laugh at our many, many crazy shenanigans, and I cry so hard because I know there will be no more. This is a pain I could never fathom. I'm so very, very angry. I truly loved my cousin so much. I can only hope that she knew.
Nicole was such a beautiful, vibrant soul. She had a really big heart, and absolutely loved all the kids in her life. She was a big kid. She was fun, silly, loving, and so brave. Everything she had endured throughout her life only made her stronger. She, like myself, was the outcast. The black sheep. I remember being about 12 years old, hanging out in her room in the basement. We were watching How High, smoking Newports, and drinking this awful concoction we blended with vodka that we looted from her nana's liquor cabinet. She was a couple years older than me, so I looked up to her. I remember this was shortly after the death of Tupac, and she still cried. My love of hip-hop is because of her. She introduced me to the greats; Tupac, Biggie, DMX, the Lox, Wu Tang, among others. We were close. Always. No matter how much time passed, we never missed a beat when we were together. She was there for me. Through a lot of really bad times. When I needed a place to stay, she gave me a home. When I needed somebody to listen, she sat down with open ears. When I needed love, she gave it to me so freely. Many people only saw her for her mistakes, her shortcomings. They had no idea how magnificent her soul really was. Nothing she ever did was meant to hurt anyone. She did what she had to do to survive.
It hurts so bad that the last time we had a conversation we spoke about having dinner together, but we never did. That was September 18th, 2019. She reached out to me because of a Facebook post I made after going through something really tough. She was checking on me. She was caring for me, as she always has. That is the Nicole I want everyone to know. The Nicole I want everyone to remember.
I wish, more than anything, I had made more of an effort to spend time together. I regret so painfully that I didn't, because I didn't want to deal with any drama. I was afraid I would end up getting into trouble, because that is what we did. Now, I would give my right arm to get into trouble with her.
The last time I saw her, she was working at Family Dollar near my house. I stopped in for a few things, and she saw me. I was shopping and heard, "Supe?" I turned around, and there she was. I was her "Super". She gave me that nickname many years ago. I really feel like I let her down. I feel like I should've, could've done more. Maybe that's just the grief talking. No matter, I want my favorite cousin back. And the horrible nightmare of reality is, I will never get her back.
As long as I have known her, which is my whole life, she suffered. She was always trying to numb the pain. Eradicate the feelings she couldn't bear to feel. The losses she lived with were great. Yet, she was so bubbly and exuberant on the outside. I wish she would've shared her burdens with me. Allowed me to carry some of her pain. Her strength is something to be envied. She was a good person. A really amazing human being. I am so sorry she was all alone, and suffering.
I will miss her tremendously as long as I live. Not a day will go by that I won't be reminded of her, and desperately want her here.
Now, the truly awful part of her story, the path which led to her untimely death. I have to talk about it. It needs to be known. The very first time I know my cousin used opiates was in 2006. She acquired fentanyl pops. I'm sure it began prior to that, but that's the first I know of. She tended to be secretive, and didn't divulge how deep she was into something. I don't know if it was shame, or her attempt to protect me. After that, I know she also dabbled in other drugs. Cocaine, meth, pills, anything to escape her reality. In 2009 she really got herself together. She landed a really good job, was paying her rent and bills on time. Then, she was diagnosed with psuedotumor cerebri, a rare medical condition. She was hospitalized and started on dilaudid for pain. The gradual spiral into addiction happened immediately. See, addicts are fantastic liars, and actors. Even with legitimate medical conditions that cause significant pain, they gain such sympathy beyond what their pain demands. It is that euphoria derived from the very first milligram of painkiller that spirals completely out of control into complete opioid dependence.
Long story short, it wasn't long after that she lost her job, housing, family, etc. From that point on, she battled on and off with opioids. Shot heroin for awhile, popped pills. The last couple of years, I distanced myself. It pains me so bad to say that. I had to, to protect my children and myself. That's what this disease does. It alienates you from everyone who loves you, and everyone you love. It isolates you. It backs you into the darkest corner by yourself. You feel completely alone. You're so afraid to burden your family, you don't wanna disappoint anyone. Yet, it's absolutely impossible to face it on your own. That is exactly how it kills you. It thrives on desperation, and solitude. You avoid those who would never judge, nor abandon you, simply because it makes you believe they will. And for that, I will never forgive myself. I should've known better. I've faced addiction head on, alone, and triumphed. However, she's gone, and it doesn't matter what I should've or could've done, cuz she's defeated. Dead. A beautiful life lost.
For those of us left behind, it is not our fault. All we can do is love unconditionally. All we can do is be there. In the most loving memory of my dear cousin Nicole Marie, until I see you again.

Always, and Forever,
Super

I've stared at the screen for a couple of days, not knowing how to capture who Alex was with just my words, and I've come to the realization that it's because it is impossible to do so, but I will try my best. I'm still struggling to accept that this isn't a nightmare I'll wake up from. Alex touched the lives of every person he ever encountered. He was fearless, passionate, stubborn to a fault, and truly had the biggest heart. He was an inspiration to everyone who knew him. Alex's smile and laugh were contagious and he knew how to make any situation fun. Growing up I remember he was always immediately good at anything new he tried, from soccer to riding around and doing tricks on his scooter with his friends. He's my little brother but I always looked up to him. He grew up golfing and fishing with our dad and continued to be passionate about both as an adult. He wasn't only passionate about both fishing and golfing but he was damn good. We will all miss receiving pictures and videos of his fishing excursions. Alex truly gave the best bear hugs, the kind that would almost knock the wind out of you, and I think that's what I'll personally miss the most. Alex was the best uncle to our sister Brittney's daughter, Aria; he always wanted to buy her the most expensive gifts. He was so good with kids, and I know he wanted some of his own one day. He was so full of life and was always down for any sort of adventure.
Alex also had demons though, he struggled with the disease of addiction for years. Alex's disease never defined him but it was definitely a part of who he was. Alex and our mom had a special bond no one else could really understand, because they both struggled with the same disease. Alex turned his whole life around and was doing so extraordinarily well; he had bought himself a new car, moved into an apartment, was engaged to his middle school sweetheart, Casey, and was working in the union. Alex spoke of talking to and helping others who struggled with addiction. Alex's strength has inspired me to share his story, to spread awareness that addiction is just like any other disease and it should be treated that way. Alex's story has taught me that addiction is a lifelong battle. Although he has been doing so well for nearly four years, we now know for certain that he was still haunted by his demons.

Christopher was a very typical little boy growing up, always curious, always on the move, so much so that it was difficult for him to focus on tasks. I remember as far back as kindergarten he was so busy running about the classroom, he slipped and hit his head on the corner of an easel and had a huge gash in his forehead. He was supposed to be sitting and listening to story time with the rest of his class. So his first surgery was at 5 years old to mend his forehead. Christopher had so much energy he wore us out, but he was a typical little tyke.
I believe his ADD made most tasks requiring attention difficult for him. Throughout all his schooling every teacher said he was very gifted and smart, but needed to pay more attention and do the work. Homework was a chore but we kept at him. Every teacher liked Christopher for he was genuinely a good boy who couldn't be still. He was in perpetual motion.
He went to HS but rarely attended classes, choosing hanging outside of school with kids who did the same. He worked for his dad in a warehouse at 17 yrs old and had fallen off a hi-low, crushing his ankle. In my opinion it was then, post surgical, his addiction began on prescribed pain medications, opioids. As time went on we noticed a change in our son, his temperament, demeanor.
We addressed it head on, sent him to multiple rehabs over the course of 10 years, but he covered up and pretended to be recovered. Fast forward to today, our beloved son Christopher struggled and battled and tried to protect us from his demon. My sweet boy tried to have a normal life, but the stigma of addiction was an obstacle. I will never judge him for I did not walk in his shoes. Depression, despair, shame, failure all contributed to his death. Heroin laced with fentanyl took his life. RIP my angel Christopher. I love you and miss you so much. Forever 32.