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

Chris was a funny, hardworking, caring, and a very social person who would talk to anyone. As a kid, Chris loved playing with his toy swords, riding his bike, riding quads, and both playing and watching both baseball and football. I met Chris when I was 18. For the past eight years, I spent my life with him. I watched him play all his jokes on his family and friends like when he would put a bag over his sisters head when she came home from school to scare her, or when he would call family members leaving messages that are unforgettably funny. He loved joking around and could make anyone laugh. He knew how to make me feel better anytime I was going through a rough time. Chris loved music. He would make sample beats with his DJ equipment and download any mix tape out there. It came to the point where we had hundreds of CDs in the house. Chris loved to stay up to date with the fashion trends. Whether it was dying the tips of his hair blond with his close friends, popping his collar, making sure he had every new pair of Jordan’s or wearing anything polo Ralph Lauren. He would never leave the house unless he had the perfect outfit on and was always dressed up and finished his attire with his Ray Ban sunglasses. I think he spent more time getting ready to leave the house then I ever would. Chris was also an animal lover. He had three dogs that meant the world to him and loved being around them. He cared so much for animals that he would try to take in stray cats but he knew I was not a cat person so he did not get to far with that. Chris knew a lot about many history topics and many current events going on and loved watching documentaries and YouTube videos about them. I think I know more about the mafia and Koko the gorilla than I would ever need to know thanks to Chris. Chris loved to surround himself with his friends. Each one of his friends he admired and adored them all. He loved spending time with them whether it was at a party or a backyard bbq, he just loved surrounding himself around them. Chris also cared so deeply about his family. And all he ever wanted to do was make them proud. Chris taught me that a loyal friend is worth more than anything in the world, and Chris was that loyal friend to me. He was also a loving and kind boyfriend who would always put me first. He was always there for anyone who needed help no matter what. He taught us all to laugh a little even in the worst situations because life is too short to not see the bright side.

I miss my brother more than words can ever say. My family will forever have a missing link and will never be the same. I will never be the same. His smile, his laugh, our inside jokes, my wedding day, the birth of my children, our ups, our downs, a childhood of many many memories is all I have left. Thank God I have those, but life is still incomplete. My heart aches every day for him, my family, myself. Life as I knew it ended on that day. There will always be a void in my heart no one will be able to fill. I hang on to the hope that I will see my brother again and there will be no more pain for any of my family. I look forward to the day that my heart can be whole again and I can have a genuine smile on my face. Brent was smart, handsome, funny, and educated, (I still cannot believe I am referring to him in the past) and had a full life ahead of him. I love you Brent, so much! You will forever be 27 here on Earth. I hope you are happy and at peace now. I hope you are made whole again and with our family that is enjoying Heaven now. I will see you again, Brent, to pick up where we left off and have nothing but love and happiness to share with each other.

She blamed it on grief of losing her father, but it started long before his death. She said she didn't need professional help, that she could handle it herself. Her addiction led to her divorce. Her husband just couldn't handle the demon. She was a 911 dispatcher who handled her job well, and knew the consequences of addiction. She was an avid horsewoman who said horses were her therapy. She swore she was doing just fine, but she kept her distance from me so I wouldn't find out. She was my only child, I trusted that she was handling it, and gave her space.

Then the phone call from her job. Did I know where she was. Then the knock on the door. She was found, but had passed away....

Robert Allen Briggs was born on July 21, 1959 in Hot Springs, Arkansas, to the late Donald Rae and Aleta Jo (Harper) Briggs.

“Bob” was a child of a Navy family that moved frequently, but eventually settled down in Virginia. He was the salutatorian of his high school class in 1977 where he moved on to obtain his Bachelor’s Degree in Chemistry from George Mason University. He later received his Master’s Degree in Chemical Engineering from Virginia Tech. He focused his career in environmental remediation with great success.

He was happily married for 24 years and loved serving as the provider for his family. Bob was not only a caring and gentle father, but he was generous in his time, effort, and resources to everyone around him. Along with his compassionate heart, Bob had a vast sense of humor. He loved playing pranks on his siblings, and his family and friends would easily describe him as a “goofball.”

Bob’s curiosity and eagerness to learn lead him to take on any challenge that came his way and sparked many interests. He loved football, playing racquetball and golf, and kept up with his beloved Hokies over the years. He was also a wonderful artist, creating calligraphy, sketches, and paintings that would surprise even his closest loved ones. He excelled in wood working, home repair, and culinary arts.

He loved riding his motorcycle, air-guitaring to classic rock music, cooking, travel, and most of all, spending time with his family and friends.

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.

At the funeral service, everyone had a funny Nick story to tell. The collage displays showed him with his daughter and fiance, making goofy faces and showing affection. Nick died too young; he had been struggling for a long time but would never have left his family intentionally. He had a gift for making everyone laugh, and his beautiful daughter carries on his zany sense of humor. He brought joy to those around him. I wish he knew just how much he was loved.

Nicholas was a loving father, brother, and son. He was struggling with drugs, alcohol, and depression for a very long time. He was a strong fighter in this battle but unfortunately did not win the war and was taken from us on December 30th, 2018. I truly believe that he wanted to get better and change his life around, especially for his children, but addiction had a tight grip on him. No matter how hard he tried and would make small progressions, addiction always seemed to have the upper hand. People should not remember him for his addiction for he was so much more than that and that did not define who he truly was.
Nicholas was the oldest of four children. He was a very funny, goofy, outgoing individual, making everyone he crossed paths with laugh. He was an outdoorsy man who loved to fish and hunt. He definitely had his head up in the clouds all the time being a tree worker.
Nicholas' two children will carry his personality on in life by having his ridiculous dance moves, loud laugh, and big smile. The one thing that people will remember him most by would be his infamous line "You don't say that". No matter where the conversation would go, if he said that line you could not help but burst out laughing. Nicholas was memorable for his random sayings.
Remember Nicholas, you are loved bigger than the stars and the moon, forever and always.

Megan was an amazing young woman. Addiction never defined her. She was always helpful and kind to everyone she knew. People remember that she was nice to them. One of her teachers from high school came to her funeral and she said she remembered that Megan was nice to everyone.

Megan was the youngest of four. She was an easygoing, independent child. At 14, she started drinking alcohol and experimenting with marijuana. The friends she chose to hang out with really influenced her choices. She was making choices that would end her life at the early age at 22.

Megan was an excellent waitress and she worked at quite a few restaurants. Megan was a charming storyteller. She was very good at diverting your attention from direct questions by telling one of her stories. People laughed at Megan's stories...and people remember Megan's signature laugh.

She started using pain medications at 19 and became addicted. Only no one tells you they are addicted. People believe they can handle their addiction. "I've got this!" she used to say. Unfortunately, addiction had control.

On November 2, 2013, I spent the entire day with both her and her boyfriend, Allen. I never noticed either one of them doing any drugs. Both Megan and I left at 4:30 pm. I went to my house and Megan went to work. Before 7 pm, Allen died from a drug overdose after snorting Percocet three times that day. Megan got out of work at 8 and tried calling Allen four times. He never picked up the phone. She stopped to get Taco Bell and drove home. She saw police cars at the end of the block. She arrived at the house to see one of Allen's friends in the driveway. Ten minutes later, a police officer came out and told them that Allen didn't make it.

After Allen's death, two of his friends introduced Megan to heroin. It's cheaper and more accessible than pain pills and contains the exact same ingredient: opium. She begged me to help her detox five months after Allen's death. I paid $7,800 for her to go to a 4-day rapid detox in Detroit. No doctor told her she'd get sick and that's what she was trying to avoid. She ended up not being able to eat or drink anything. She checked herself into a hospital once she arrived back home and that's when she was diagnosed with pancreatitis. It's also when I found out she was addicted to heroin.

Three days later, when she was checking out of the hospital, two police officers arrested her and took her to jail. She was charged with four felony counts involving heroin. The DA set her bail at $10,000 and told her she was facing 50 years in prison.

I hired an attorney to represent her in her best interests, except he lied to us several times. By the time she was sentenced, she received four years probation and 36 months stayed and imposed prison sentence. We asked the judge to allow her to participate in inpatient treatment that my insurance would have paid for. He said no. We asked him to change his mind. He still said no and that the time for treatment was when Megan was a teen. That's a fallacy. The time for treatment is when you want treatment.

Four months into Megan's sentence, she relapsed, overdosed, and died. I have been very open from the beginning about Megan's struggles and her death. I go to high schools, colleges, and to treatment facilities to share Megan's story. I'm hoping to prevent other young people from walking her journey and to prevent other families from walking my forever loss journey.

The stigmas of addiction are really discrimination against people with addiction and mental health issues. These have to end sooner rather than later. We are losing way too many people to the disease of addiction.

We miss Megan every single day. She was greatly loved and forever remembered by her family and friends.

Saying goodbye to my son is the single most difficult thing I have ever had to do. Chris struggled with addiction and depression for more years than not. He was gifted with so much intelligence and wit and compassion. With every new start, his deepest desire was to maintain sobriety so he could reconnect with everyone he loved, and he loved his family fiercely. He reveled in bringing a smile to everyone's face, be it family, friends, or others. He used his incredible gift of humor to cover some of his darkest days, from himself and others. I've lost count of the times that treatment and rehab were completed in a system that was not prepared to deal adequately with addiction. Paths taken and opportunities lost, he fought repeatedly to overcome but could not achieve the freedom from the disease of addiction and depression that he craved so much. My deepest sorrow is for HIS loss, a profound sadness that his life was so difficult these past few years, when consequences and complications left him in constant emotional and physical pain, inconsolable and defeated. He will be in ours hearts and thoughts always.

On Tuesday December 25th, William Pickering Jones III, of Darien, Connecticut, lost his battle and passed away at the age of 27.

William was born on December 12th, 1991, to William P. Jones Jr. and Elizabeth Higgins Jones (Betsy and Bill) in Greenwich, Connecticut. He was the beloved big brother of Julia, Catherine, and Elizabeth Jones. He was the grandson of late Dr. and Mrs. H.P. Higgins of Toronto, Canada, and the late Mr. and Mrs. William P. Jones of Darien, Connecticut. William was part of a large and loving family and will be dearly missed by his many aunts, uncles, and 36 cousins.

William was a second-year law student at Fordham University, and received his BA from McGill University, Canada.

He had a beautiful mind and was passionate about everything he did, whether it was his work on legal initiatives, or just making his little sisters a new music playlist. William was loving and compassionate to his family and friends, but also to anyone he met. He was truly one of a kind and will be dearly missed by those who were lucky enough to know him.

School was a struggle for Paul and was an arena in which he didn't experience much self-satisfaction. Capable of higher level reasoning than he was able to verbalize due to a language impairment, he was underestimated both in and out of school. Isolated by his social awkwardness, Paul longed for greater human connection and took to writing poetry as a means of self-expression, something he started in his teenage years and continued for the rest of his life.

Mostly shy and withdrawn by nature, as Paul matured and began to push back and express his frustration, he was identified as having a mental illness, was misdiagnosed and over-medicated—something that took years and sound professional support to overcome.

While loved at home, Paul was often vulnerable to mistreatment, exacerbating his feelings of inadequacy. By his early 20s, Paul found needed comfort and relief in self-medicating, leading him into the world of street drugs and the pure hell of addiction. From jail cells to ineffective rehabs, both of which inflicted shame, Paul was exploited, humiliated, and punished. Even so, Paul fought hard to overcome his dependency and managed some successes with long stretches of sobriety. I admired his grit and determination particularly in light of his lack of skills and uphill battle to find employment.

Paul's last relapse occurred when he was 34, a year in which he finally had job he loved and his first apartment, both aspects of his life in which he took genuine pride. Fearing the loss of all he'd gained, he took himself to the ER in our local hospital. From there he was sent to a behavioral health hospital, where his stay would be limited to two weeks and where they would seek a follow-up program. One week into his allowed time in the behavioral health hospital, Paul was caught smoking a cigarette in the bathroom and immediately dismissed and sent home. We were both disappointed but he told me he was going to look on the bright side, "I can return to my job and, if we can find Suboxone, I can fight this on my own." I started making phone calls and had struck out, but not given up, when he overdosed and died. I did not know that after a week in treatment, he was more vulnerable to dying. Nor did I know that it's much easier to get street drugs than Suboxone. Tragic.

I miss him everyday. His apartment was around the corner from me and we spent a lot of time together. He was the happiest he'd been in a long time. He wanted to live.

Marissa was a beautiful young lady. As a child, she had such a love for life. She was giving to a fault.
Marissa was born a twin in 1988 along with her twin brother, Scott. What a special gift it is to be a twin. Marissa was the outgoing one. She always had friends and was involved in so many activities as a child. She always loved school and hoped to become a teacher like her mom.
So where did the Marissa we all know and love disappear to? At the vulnerable age of 14, Marissa began high school. Up to this point she had been such a happy child. But high school would prove to be different for her. Unfortunately, our middle school splits into three separate high schools. Marissa lost so many friends to the other schools. She became lonely and a bit isolated.
Marissa began looking for attention from boys and this was where she began to find negative influences. Because her self esteem had plunged, she chose boys who treated her poorly.
We first noticed Marissa was losing a lot of weight, which she didn’t need to do since she was very tall and thin. She was diagnosed borderline anorexic. At this same time, she was refusing to get involved in activities, which was very unlike her.
Marissa began smoking and most likely was using pot by her sophomore year. In addition, she was diagnosed with scoliosis. This began giving her back pains and she was prescribed pain meds to relieve the pain. We believe the use of the pain meds was the beginning of the end for our lovely daughter.
As high school ended and she worked and attended a local college, there were times when she really seemed to be doing well. But then she met a boy that would change all that. He introduced her to street drugs. Marissa became very depressed and her life was on a downhill slide.
At the age of 22, Marissa became pregnant. She was nowhere near ready for a child. Her son Haiden was born in 2010.
Because Haiden was born with a small amount of drugs in his system, he was taken away from her and given to her parents. Marissa, the loving daughter we always thought would be a wonderful mother, had very little bond with her baby. The father soon also left the picture. More depression would follow and the need to mask the sadness took over.
In 2011, Marissa was introduced to heroin. We believe she began using it in the spring and was dead of an overdose by October. She did enter rehab in September and was doing well. However, a 30-day program is too little help for a heroin addict. She died 16 hours after being released from rehab.
Today, seven years later, she is so terribly missed. Her son was 18 months old at the time of her death. He does not remember her. Her twin brother is finally moving forward with his life after all this time.
We keep Marissa’s memory alive each day by raising her smart and fun loving son. We are determined to raise him in a stable and loving home. One day we will tell him about his mother’s struggles with drugs. But for now, he knows his mother was a beautiful soul, both inside and out. He knows his mamma loved him and is watching over him as his guardian angel.

Same as introduction

As I've stated before my mother was so much more to me than just a mom. My fathers early unexpected death changed the course of our lives and our relationship in ways that have now left me with memories that are the single biggest Blessings of my Life !!!! 💗

Mollie when sober was brilliant, industrious, fearless, and quick-witted. She was a local singing and acting star in middle school, then started to slide into a deep, dark hole in high school, with mental health issues self-medicated by alcohol misuse. This kept her from success at ASU, and it drove her back to Wisconsin, where she slid into her own personal maelstrom. Sober, Mollie was a stunning beauty with a quick wit and the energy to do the work of three people. But when using, first alcohol and then, tragically, heroin in 2012,  Mollie began a decade-long descent into her own personal hell. Madison, WI, police saved her in 2014 and again in 2017, giving her more chances to overcome. Mollie was loved, and she knew it, but she always felt the need to battle and beat her addiction without others’ help, as if taking help would further stigmatize her. In late August 2018, we had one last visit with her in Maine, a place she managed to avoid heroin for long stretches. But the drug kept telling her it would help her when no one else would. She had just started on antidepressants and real therapy, and was moving towards recovery for the first time in her adult life. But she leaned on her rescue pit, Jocko, a little too much and her support system too little. In the end, the power of the stigma and the lack of intelligent treatment held her back. She died cold and alone, with her faithful Jocko at her side for 36 hours before she was found. It shocked us when we thought we could not be shocked, because like so many other addicts, she seemed to be maturing and turning an important corner. We have a hole in our family’s heart. It is a big one. 

Now we laid you down to sleep...
We pray the Lord your soul to keep...
You died before you could awake ....
We know your soul the Lord did take....
Love
Always and Forever 💔

Miss Seth everyday! He was a great person, father, son, and grandson! We miss his hugs and kisses and their is an empty chair at the table everyday! Seth was a good kid. He was very loved by daughter, parents, grandparents, and other family members! He loved his family also!

Greg was the baby of the family but taller than everyone else. He was a gentle giant with a heart for nature. He was intelligent and kind, pursuing his passion to preserve nature by enrolling in law school. Zuri, his faithful dog was his companion throughout his addiction and his time at Back to Basics, where he dedicated himself to recovery and was an inspiration for others struggling with addiction. Zuri, a piece of Greg’s heart, remains at Back to Basics giving comfort and encouragement to others trying to heal from addiction. He was thoughtful about his impact and the imprint he left on this earth and traveled to work with animals and the less fortunate in other corners of the world. He loved his family and was a loyal friend. He was one of the most naturally funny people making everyone laugh until they cried without effort. I am proud of the person that he fought to be and his family will never stop missing or loving the person that he was. A beautiful person.

Our Hayden was handsome, funny, smart, and one of the hardest working people you could meet. He suffered addiction on and off over the past six years. He had much sober time but seemed to always relapse when the weather got cold and the days got short. He was really trying hard to stay sober. Unfortunately, he tried it one more time and it was his last. Worst day of our lives. We miss him terribly every day and always will. Requiescat in Pace Hayden James Moreau.