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

It was very difficult to find a recent picture of Joe where he was not high. He struggled with addiction for more than 10 years. He was in Drug Court and on probation, clean and sober when the Covid-19 hit. Courts were closed, there were no meetings and no counseling sessions. What would an addict do? Best I could tell, he had not been using his drug of choice during that time due to the threat of eviction from my home, but he was using. He was using Kratom and then Tiana. So far I don't have the tox reports back yet, but that day, June 2, he bought 7 Xanax bars. I know because I was able to get into his Facebook and saw the whole thing go down. Needless to say, the outcome is the same.

Joe is dead.

There was a super cool guy underneath all of his pain. He and I shared a real sarcastic sense of humor. We loved to watch movies together, especially Star Wars and comedy movies. He had so many friends that loved him. None of us could love him clean or happy.

A close friend of mine lost her son to fentanyl a couple of years back and she was the person I reached for. No one can know but another mother. No mother should ever know. She invited me to a support group on Facebook with more than 4000 members worldwide who have lost sons and daughters to a drug overdose. NOT ONE MORE! Please join us on Overdose Awareness Day, August 31, and urge your local and state representative to fly flags at half staff. Drug addicts lives matter.

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.

My son was wonderful, funny and smart. He loved his family and his son was his life. He had a drug addiction that he just couldn't get away from. He tried more than once to beat it but it finally took him away from us.

Taylor was smart, funny, athletic, handsome, and an addict. Like many other people, he became addicted to opioids when they were prescribed for pain after surgery in 9th grade. He eventually moved from opioids to heroin. Taylor told us that his first thought in the morning was about drugs, and the cravings never let up. He even dreamed about it. Taylor struggled for over a decade - half of his short life.

Despite inpatient and outpatient treatments, drug rehab, detox, psychiatrists, psychologists, counselors, sponsors, mental health services, sober living homes, methadone, NA, and AA, he could not stay clean and sober for long. His addiction led to crime, arrests, and homelessness. He overdosed and recovered, and watched others overdose and die.

But it was not an overdose that caused his death. Taylor’s addiction also led him to steal money, jewelry, electronics, tools; anything that he could pawn for money to support his habit. It also led to his death. He was shot by a man who came home and found Taylor inside his house.

Taylor also had family – a mom, dad, stepdad, two brothers, a sister, aunts, uncles, cousins, grand-parents, friends, and even a family dog who loved and supported him. We are shattered.

His death was violent. It means one more person – the man who shot him – is now part of the tragedy. Our hope is that Taylor is finally at peace. I am not sure that the rest of us will find it for a long time.

RIP my beautiful boy. Sweet child of mine.

My dad who I miss and think of every single day. He struggled with addiction for a long time, and unfortunately those demons took his life. I would give anything to talk to and see him one more time. I try to think of the good memories, but I also think about all the things he’s missed, especially his grandkids that I know he would have just loved. I know he is watching over us though. 🖤

My brother Kevin was loved by everyone. He was the best brother anybody could ever have. When he was younger he was in a bad skiing accident, the left ski never came off and it just ripped apart the left side of his body. He almost died. He was 16 when this happened but later down the road complications from the accident would have him addicted to painkillers. He was in pain every single day of his life and he could not take it. No doctors would help so he resorted to heroin. It was the only thing that helped with his pain. He was 34 years old when he died from an overdose of fentanyl in his system.

Erik was an old soul and he was kind, had a beautiful spirit, was smart, handsome, talented, and very creative. He could talk to anyone, he was engaging and could be very charming. Kids loved him and he was always kind to those less fortunate than he was. He loved animals and considered himself a “Crazy Cat Person” but really had dogs all his life!?! He was a very creative writer and turned many of his writings into versions of rap songs. Baseball was his thing and he could give you every stat from the early beginnings of baseball to current players. But he really was an avid sports fan in general. Boy was he a Tom Brady fan but we won't hold that against him, hahaha. He played Little League Baseball, Pop Warner Football, All-Stars, and Travel Ball until High School, and then he played Freshman and Junior Baseball and Football. He did MMA and bodybuilding for a bit of time too. Not only did he participate in sports but he went to hundreds of MLB games, countless NFL games, Strikeforce, Bellator, Glory, UFC, WCK events. Supercross, Monster Truck, and Nitro Circus events. San Diego Comic-Con, college Bowl games! He traveled to Canada, New York, Florida, Colorado, Philadelphia, Hawaii, Arizona, Las Vegas. He has also held down a job since he was 16 at a few different spots and we were very proud of his work ethic. Went in on his days off and worked anytime time they needed him. He had a great life, great friends, nice girlfriends, and a family that loved him no matter what! Sadly the start of his demise was an injury in H.S. and he was prescribed Oxycodone. It took a few years before it was visibly noticeable that there was an issue but now being 19 we could not force him into rehab or get him to admit he had a problem. Things were looking up and we got him to go into rehab but on day 86, on June 5th, 2020 he left, and 1 week later, on June 12th,2020, he used Cocaine that he did not know was laced with Fentanyl and died from Fentanyl Poisoning!

WHAT I MISS MOST ABOUT MY SON IS EVERYTHING!!!

Our story..

When we lost our son, in my mind almost immediately I could only see him as a little boy. When I would close my eyes it brought me back to a time when all was right in the world. He was so sweet, so eager to please. No matter what was on the agenda for the day, it was always, ok mommy. I can hear his voice in my head, I can see his blue eyes looking up at me. Just writing this has me crying. As mommy my job is to protect. It was a time when I knew where he was, who he was with, was he hungry or warm enough? I could control everything. I felt very connected to my son. As a child Chase was involved in everything. He did football, soccer, basketball, baseball. He had a great arm. Was an awesome pitcher. Swimming, skating, he even went to tennis camp. He made a friend wherever we went.

The pain of losing a child is not anything that can be put into words, it's at your core. It's brutal, and it does not end. When you lose your child to opioids there is an added factor of guilt that goes with the pain. The first time we found out he was taking something was about 2 years ago. He and his brother came in and informed us that Chase had just been in an accident. Looking at him you could clearly see he was out of it. Fortunately, neither he nor anyone else was hurt. When he told us he had taken pills, Percocet, we were shocked. After he seemed like himself again we had a family meeting, all 4 of us. His truck was totaled and it was a miracle he wasn't hurt or worse. We know this is very addictive so we asked him specific questions about how much and why. It was an emotional moment for all of us because of what could have happened. He assured us it wasn't a habit. Chase and I went to church that Sunday to thank god for saving him. He was shaken, but did not want to talk about it any further. I informed him in order to live here he would be subject to random drug tests just to make sure we stay on track. He wholeheartedly agreed.

Chase worked everyday, and he was a hard worker. He never called in sick. He would come home every night and have dinner with us and hang out for a while. Never any indication that he was on anything. He passed his drug tests and we felt thankful that we had dodged a bullet and we were back on track. Fast forward to Easter 2020.
His father came in the house and said there is something going on with Chase. As soon as I went outside I could tell. He was talking nonsense and walking around in circles. We had never seen him like this. It scared us to death. We decided we needed to take him to the emergency room. We felt they would examine him and tell us what the next step should be. It's Covid-19 protocol. He was met at the door and we were not allowed in. They told us he'll call you when he's done. Two hours later he called us. When we arrived he was sitting on the curb looking exhausted, but our boy was himself again. When we got home we had another family meeting. Again all 4 of us. This time he truly opened up to us about how he feels about himself and how he wants to be the person his brother can look up to and someone we could be proud of. As we all cried, we told him how much we love him. We told him we can do this as a team. I texted him several times to make sure he called the number given to him by the ER Dr. He said he left messages. Tuesday night he came home from work, he had dinner, and then headed to his room around 8pm. Nothing unusual, he was going to play video games before going to sleep. At 8:30 I went into his room to say goodnight and to check his behavior. There was again no indication of anything unusual. When I told him, ok tomorrow I will test you, anything you did on Sunday should be out of your system by now and tomorrow you have to connect with a counselor. He said.. ok mom goodnight, see ya tomorrow...There was no tomorrow.

Wednesday morning when I got up I noticed his bedroom door was still closed. Odd, since it was around 8am and he is gone by 7:30 for work. I went in just in case he overslept, but not really expecting him to be there. I found my boy in the same position he was in the night before when I said goodnight to him. I won't go into detail on what I experienced trying to dial 911 and bring my baby back after he obviously had been gone for some time, but I can say it is a picture that haunts me day and night. It's not something you can ever forget. Unfortunately, my younger son heard my screams and came in. I wish I could take that painful picture out of his memory. It's something he will live with also.

His death certificate read....from moment of ingestion to death...seconds. In seconds our Chase was gone. Pure fentanyl. He should not have died. When the officers searched his room they found a bottle of urine in his pocket. A bottle you can buy at any smoke shop. How is this legal? How long had he been fooling me? When did it start? High school, college? He was prescribed Percocet for several surgeries, was that it? So many questions.
I've learned a lot since our loss. This kind of addiction does not discriminate, it doesn't matter what age, sex, race or social standing. You have a choice in the beginning when taking opioids.. After that the drug decides. It grabs you. Very little else will matter except getting that next pill, powder or whatever you can get.

As we try to put our lives back together and try to find some peace, I felt I needed to contribute in some way. Shatterproof helps to educate and end the stigma attached to this crisis. It's heartbreaking to see how many families are dealing with this type of loss. If you want to help with this cause please donate any amount in memory of Chase. Thank you for listening.

In loving memory... November 16, 1998 - April 2, 2020.

Dillon’s life was cut far too short, and his presence here on Earth will be sorely missed by all who knew him…all who were blessed by his radiance, his infectious smile that brightened every room and brought smiles to everyone who was with him. He truly was a beacon of light that brought joy to every gathering, every home, and every place he went.

He was quick with his wit and enjoyed laughing as well as making others laugh. He made funny faces, told funny jokes, and laughed until his and our sides hurt. What a joy. What a blessing.

Dillon had a heart made of gold. This was never more evident than when he was with his grandparents, whom he treated with kindness, gentleness, and respect. He could spend hours on end with them because he loved them so much. He was always so easy, warm, and thoughtful.

And, his style can’t go without mention! He had style for miles! His latest fashion statement was so “GQ” we joked with him that he should be modeling for a fashion magazine or walking down a runway somewhere.

He loved his family dearly, and his family will never be quite the same after this incredible loss. One day, one step at a time, we will learn to bear the pain of Dillon’s passing and learn how to navigate this journey without our beloved. This world will now be a little less bright, a little less funny, and little less secure.

Vince was born in Chertsey England and moved to the states in 1993. Vince was a very talented musician and skilled in many aspects of music. He was best known as the drummer for Moonseed and affectionately known as The Limey and V MurdaH. Vince loved his "scorpio" family and left behind his beautiful daughter Rhythm Jacqueline and fiance Karen Marie. His memory will live on through his family and the legacy of his music. 🎵🎼🎸🎤🎧♏🇬🇧

Derrick Ridgway, died being labeled an addict to all those who only knew Derrick 'The Addict.' Derrick was so much more and I'd like to introduce you to him.

My son, Derrick! He was extremely intellectual. Now, I know every mother thinks that about their child but let me explain. Derrick wrote a book and it was actually published by Tate publishing. It was on Amazon and Abe books. His oldest daughter, now 22, designed the book cover for him (she loves drawing). He was so proud of that book! He named it Fall of Freedom: Phoenix Rising. He was in the process of writing his next book before he passed.

When Derrick was in high school, he was lazy. He didn't want to do homework so counted only on tests to pass. Barely passed by the skin of his teeth. I said smart but he was lazy! However, all students were required to take the SAT test. He got 100% on that test and received a nice scholarship for it.

When Derrick was 7 years old, the school had the kids selling candy bars for $1 each. I drove him around and explained to him he had to frequently count his candy and his money and if he came up short it's his responsibility to do the right thing. Thru the day we seem to be fine but at some point, he did his count and his bank was $1 short. I asked him what his plan was. He sat and thought a few minutes and then said "I got it, I'll sell the next candy bar for $2."

Derrick was also attending Devry for Web Design (I'm in IT. Guess I made a little influence😊) and was going to Real Estate school for his license. He showed ambition. Just a couple examples.

As Derrick grew up, he had a sense of humor that was out of this world. This is probably one of his highlights. Maybe some of his downside as well. Not sure if he took things as seriously as he should have when I spoke to him. He always seemed to make a joke out of stuff. And honestly it was pretty funny!

There is one thing that never changed with Derrick, his stubbornness. Derrick always knew better and always had the best way. Oh yea, Derrick did what Derrick was going to do and had control.

Derrick left behind three children two daughters and a son. Oldest daughter is 22 then a 10 year old, who turned 10 the day after his death. His son is now 5. Derrick's oldest daughter is working and has been in college to be a vet. The 10 year old daughter I adopted on March 12, 2020, and the 5 year old son was adopted by my other son in October, 2019. The best decision Derrick could have made in his life was to realize he could not take care of his children and asked if we would adopt them. I know 100% he truly loved all his kids so I know it was difficult and very heroic and unselfish to make that decision. At that point in his life, he knew the kids would not have a better life with their parents (who are both on drugs) unless he let them go.

I asked Derrick several times why, how and when all the drugs started. I only got "You will never understand" in response every time. Because Derrick was a writer, he emailed me a poem in 2018. I pasted at the end. Please read it as it really equates to his struggle and more than likely several others.

As time proceeded to pass, Derrick and his life began to spiral out of control He lied about his addiction and how he had things under control. He would lie about the smallest things that never mattered. He would continue to try to make me believe he was sober. Derrick knew I got to the point I couldn't believe him anymore. He was losing weight rapidly, he would constantly tell outrageous stories that contradicted the last. He knew I would do anything for him. I tried to help him get into housing, rehab, etc. He just wasn't as ready as I was. 😢

I love him and will miss him for the rest of my life. I prayed so hard for him to use his intellectual brain again before it's ruined and come back as my son, Derrick.

God bless all of you for losing your loved ones as well. God bless anyone who read this entire message. 🙄

Derrick Ridgway's Poem, called I'd Never:

I'd Never

Lots of things I said I’d never do
I was naïve had no clue
Now I know I was wrong, spoke too soon
I used that lighter and spoon
But before you judge, I was just like you
Went to the doctor one day, and that’s where my addiction made its debut
With just one piece of paper and a pen he changed my whole life
It would just be the beginning of years and years of strife
Started off so innocent, I believed he knew best
But with each new “treatment” I became more and more obsessed
To my family and friends I started to lie
But all I had to do was go to the doc to resupply
Quicker and quicker the scripts would run dry
On the streets I found a new ally
The dope boys I met became my new best friends
I’d lie to myself and say it was just a means to an end
Its ok because its still what Im prescribed
Im not doing drugs or dope, I believed my own lie
Then one day the doc said good news your cured, no further need for a script
But when I woke up I was sick, so I off to my “friends” house I skipped
But now with no script I had to buy three times the amount
Started looking for a way to get my medication at a discount
Further and further down the rabbit hole I fell
I felt like I was staring at the gates to hell
When I cant afford what I “need” I feel like shit
Then after saying “I’d Never” I decided to try “just one hit”
That brown liquid flowed easily into my vein
But with it my life trickled right down the drain
The first taste was all it took didn’t see it coming; I was already on the hook
But I am still in control, still functioning, still doing things by the book
How quickly things escalated, one day Im fine the next Im homeless
Never have I seen something that was so ferocious
It was my worst enemy, yet to me my best friend
It would be a long time coming before I could see the end
I’m still ok I lied, I’m just on a down note
I’ll just start selling a little here and there, just to stay afloat
The line for things “I’d never”, became very blurry
I became involved in violence and crimes in a hurry
The only voice I could hear anymore wasn’t even my own
How heroin became my life was unknown
I’ll do anything not to be sick
When will it finally click
For all of addicts, the bottom is different; we find a way to go deeper
The value of life gets cheaper and cheaper
We watch everyone in the circle with us die
But we become so dehydrated we can’t even cry
I don’t wanna live but am too scared to die
So I used and used just wanting to hide
After it was all gone I finally ended up all alone
I looked to the sky and let out a groan
Carry me to the finish line or kill me I begged God
Then something happened that was very odd
For the first time in forever I heard a voice that was different than the drug
It was warm and welcoming, and I once again felt loved
I found my way broken, scarred and scared to a treatment center
At the door I trembled scared to enter
Now or never, its time to decide
Which is braver? To live or to die?

Steven James Meyers passed away on 10/7/2018 just 5 days after his 22nd birthday.

Steven was one of the most caring, funniest, and passionate people you could have ever met. His heart was truly golden. He loved hard and cared for everyone he met.

Music was his life, and he loved the bands My Chemical Romance, Panic! At the Disco, Twenty One Pilots, Fall Out Boy, and Rise Against. He loved playing various instruments, but the bass guitar was his favorite. He spent free time at animal shelters and playing video games. He loved going to concerts and seeing his favorite bands play live.

He loved animals and would continuously bring them home to save and nurse back to health. His favorite were his many fish, and exuberant fish tanks.

Anywhere he went he made friends and made you smile... his smile was contagious. He had a laugh that could make your day and a sense of humor that kept you on your toes. Steven was kind and gentle and could not wait to be a father and have a family.

He often spent his time with his girlfriend, Page, and friends, including best friend Rick. Steven was ecstatic to find out he would be a father, but unfortunately passed away 4 days after finding out.

Steven was a graduate of Conemaugh Township School District and of the NACE International Institute, where he earned a degree as a Coating Inspector. He was also a member of the IUPAT 57 out of Pittsburgh. Steven worked for Mickey's Inspection & Consulting as an inspector for TransCanada on the Keystone Pipeline.

In high school Steven played football, baseball, wrestled, and participated in track. He was a talented athlete and enjoyed each sport he participated in. He was very intelligent and had a way with words. When he spoke, he was able to captivate anyone who could hear him.

Steven is survived by his girlfriend (at the time of his death) Page, their son Steven James Meyers Jr. (born 5-17-19), mother Stacia Wills, sisters Mandy, Brooke, and Lindsey, numerous aunts and uncles including his Aunt Sarah, Aunt Sadie, and Uncle Sam, cousins, nieces and nephews, and many, many friends.

His presence on this earth will never be forgotten and he truly left his mark on everyone who knew him.

Mike was a wonderful human. He was a loving and devoted father, son, family member, and friend, fierce in his commitment to be there and do what he could for those around him. He was the living personification of laughter and kindness, and all who knew him walked away from their conversation with Mike wearing a smile on their face.

When Mike was interested in something, it became a passion. He loved the Philadelphia Eagles, music (so many genres, from Wu-Tang to 80s pop ballads), and dancing like nobody was watching. He was the biggest nerd, totally unapologetic in his love for video games, superheroes, comic books and terrible movies.. the kind that weren’t supposed to make you laugh, but did. He worked hard, loved skateboarding, podcasts, and trivia, and could proudly spout off the most obscure tidbits of information to anyone on any topic. But above all, Mike loved being a dad. He would watch on in awe of his little girl every day, and Evie saw her daddy as her own personal superhero.

Mike struggled with addiction for a large part of his life, but he fought tooth and nail to overcome it. As his family, we hope that these donations made in Mike’s name can help other people and their families through their struggle with this debilitating disease, and help to end the stigmas that continue to surround it.

He wouldn’t want us to be sad. He hated seeing people sad. He’d want us to remember all the times he made us laugh, and that special way he had of making everyone feel like they mattered. So for Mike, we hope that everyone he knew can remember. Share your stories of happiness and laughter with everyone who knew and loved him. Because Mike was a belly laugh on legs, the warm hug you didn’t even know you needed. And when the sun is shining, and the birds are singing, and you can’t help but smile, that’s Mike reminding you how much he loved each and every one of us.

Mike was and always will be our favorite Superhero.

Those who knew Ross, even just a little, lost a shining light in their life.

Ross had an infectious smile that would light up a room, fun loving energy and a deeply optimistic outlook on life. At a very early age Ross adopted the Saint Louis Blues, Kansas City Chiefs and the Saint Louis Cardinals as his teams. He had a genuine and passionate love for playing hockey and disc golf, and he spent 14 years of his life playing on competitive teams. Ross found joy in nature, he loved to hike, camp, tube and collect rocks and crystals. Ross was a graduate of Cy-Fair High School in Cypress, TX class of 2011. His favorite saying when asked what he had been up to or how he was doing was always “living the dream."

Ross was handsome, outgoing, compassionate, and he had an infectious smile that lit up a room. He had the patience for everything and would do anything for anyone who asked. We lived the typical American middle-class life growing up, two parents, 3 siblings a home raised on faith and all the love any child could ask for. But as everyone should know, addiction does not discriminate, it does not have a description and criteria as to who can fall victim. Addiction it is like a tornado as it touches down: it affects everything in its path, a violent whirlwind of pain, guilt, shame, and fear, leaving wreckage all around, fleecing anyone in the path. A tornado touched down in our family in 2015 and little did we know it would go on to impact our family for the rest of our lives.

Ross played competitive hockey for 12 years, not only did he love the sport, he excelled at it. He had injured his back as a teenager during a game one night, healed, and went on with his life. Ross began working for my grandfather’s brick laying company in Kansas City, Missouri, after college and the long hours of labor, bending over, lifting, and moving bricks began to irritate his once injured back. He went to see a doctor who recommend fusing S1-L5 of his spine together. At the age of 22, this was not the ideal route to go, but the pain began to disrupt his everyday life, the pain was becoming a constant irritation. After discussing his other options, the doctor proceeded with pain management by prescribing the opioid Oxycontin. 3 years later, Ross moved back to Houston, he was struggling. He masked it so well, it was not until almost a year later that the reality of what he was going through came to light. This doctor was still prescribing Ross 17 Oxy’s a day, each month, and was not even seeing him in person. ‘Friends’ would go pick up the prescription and mail it to him from Kansas City, but, not without a cost of course. They began making him pay and then would take half, if not over half of them, before sending it down to Houston.

Did you know that ONE Oxycontin on the street costs $30 and a bag of Heroin cost $15-$20? This is the reason those that struggle with addiction from an opioid prescription end up using heroin, it is cheaper and easier to access. Ross was sold straight fentanyl on April 29th, 2020 and we lost Ross to addiction on April 30th, 2020. We have a small amount of justice for Ross, the dealer was arrested on Federal charges for distribution of illegal substances causing death, 4 other deaths around the same time were also tied to this man.

Stigma tells us that those who struggle with addiction don’t really try. “Why can’t they just say no?” stigma says. Please know that stigma lies. Glancing back now, I realize that stigma kept our family in silence. It told Ross he should be ashamed and disgraced. It told our family to stay quiet for fear of judgment. People focus on the addiction, not the person. What a lie, because addiction is such a small part of who they are. The one thing addiction could not take from Ross is how much he loved us and how much we loved him.

Not one day has gone by that I do not ache, I could never put into words how much I miss him, I would give anything for one more minute, one more hug, one more laugh. This loss has been unimaginable. There are still days I feel like it cannot be real, but I have found that the best way to rebuild our lives after this tornado is to help others. I want to make a difference for other families, be the voice for those we have lost to this disease and the light for those searching for support. Ross always searched for his purpose; I know now that his purpose lives on in me, I am meant to be a voice, an advocate, an ambassador in raising awareness. Life always brings you where you are meant to be.

Together we must find a way to make this path easier to travel. Families need resources, support, and the power to break down the barriers of stigma. I am proud to be Ross’ voice.

Since I lost my brother to an accidental overdose of fentanyl, 2 things have remained constant:
1. I still love my little brother
2. I still HATE the drugs that took him.

I will always be your voice Ross; I will never stop fighting and advocating for change.

I love you Ross.

The saying that “only the good die young” was reaffirmed on May 22, 2020, when Gardner Paxon Westgate, age 31, found eternal peace as he returned to a better place. Gardner was born in Columbia, Missouri, on August 2, 1988, to Pamela Walker Knight and Dr. Steven Judson Westgate as the fifth of six children. He attended Bingham High School in South Jordan, Utah, where he caused mischief and developed life-long friendships. Gardner made a career in marketing with AvTech Capital and ran his own business on the side.

Gardner’s smile and optimism were infectious. He radiated joy that could positively alter the mood in any room. He was kind, loving, and generous. Before someone could finish asking Gardner for a favor, he had already raced out the door to help. These characteristics allowed Gardner to make friends with people from all walks of life. He had an uplifting presence on social media that inspired many and drew him and his wife, Jordan, together. They were married at Snowbasin Resort in March 2017 and welcomed their baby girl, Ariya, into the world the following year.

From the moment she was born, Ariya was the light of Gardner’s life. He doted on Ariya day and night and never hesitated to help care for her. Gardner enjoyed hiking, swimming, walking, playing, reading, and laughing with Ariya. She has a smile and laugh reserved only for him. Ariya is a daddy’s girl through and through.

Gardner had wanderlust. During the last four-and-a-half years of his life, he traveled to 10 countries and 22 states. He and Jordan celebrated Mardi Gras in New Orleans, rang in the new year in Las Vegas, kissed in front of the Eiffel Tower, gazed at Big Ben from the London Eye, admired the Acropolis of Athens and the Roman Colosseum, experienced spring break on South Beach, and cheered on their opposing football teams—the Eagles and Seahawks—in Seattle. They spent countless hours on road trips talking, laughing, and driving across the country together. They packed a lifetime of adventure into a few short years.

Gardner was an audacious thrill seeker. If an activity was dangerous or adrenaline inducing, he was not only interested, he had probably already tried it. For him, the speed limit was merely a suggestion—he enjoyed driving fast on his bullet bike or in his Subaru WRX. He loved “bombing down hills” on his snowboard or longboard and climbing up rocks. Gardner fearlessly jumped off cliffs or out of airplanes. He was bold.

Gardner was hilarious. He enjoyed scouring the Internet for funny memes, GIFs, and videos and would often tell inappropriate jokes that could leave you either cringing or gasping for breath from laughter. He was intelligent, creative, and talented. Gardner was a guitarist and an accomplished artist who could draw breathtaking portraits. He taught himself search engine optimization and made a career out of that skill. He could do anything he set his mind to.

For Gardner, “carpe diem” was not simply an aspiration, it was a way of life. He marveled at the beauty of the sunrise and noticed life’s glorious, minute details that are often overlooked by others. He embraced each day as if it were his last. His story will be an inspiration and lesson to all those lucky enough to know him. Gardner will forever exist peacefully in the special “golden hour” that warms the earth as the sun begins to set.

He is survived by his wife, Jordan; daughter, Ariya; father, Dr. Steven Westgate (Lynelle); mother, Pamela Knight (George); siblings, Stephanie (Luke), Priscilla (Drew), Judson (Becky), Cydney (Ben), and Daphne; six step-brothers and sisters, eleven nieces and nephews, his two beloved dogs, Leo and Marley; and countless other loving family members and friends. He is preceded in death by his paternal grandparents, Judson Hugh Westgate and Marion Frieda DiPasquale (Francis); and his maternal grandfather, John Arthur Walker.

Taylor, a great chess player at 7, an excellent student- with no studying. A guitarist and lover of music. Above all else loves his family and his friends. My son is more than just a kid, he was an exceptional human. His struggle was real and impactful. Not to be confused as just an “addict” - he is a human that is loved and missed by so many - for those that didn’t meet him, maybe you will someday......In a chess play, lyrics, a musical chord, a smile that shines brighter, and the list goes on. May you find the compassionate heart to always find the good, in spite of what may seem .....

My mom, Shawnaé was incredibly talented. She was an amazing cook, artist, athlete, and taught me so much. She was my best friend. She left behind 4 kids. She struggled with addiction after becoming addicted to Oxy and went in and out of rehabs, jail and eventually prison. She was sober and doing good, and got off parole. Unfortunately the grip her addiction had on her was too much, she lost her battle on November 24 2018 due to overdose of carfentanil. I miss my mom everyday and wish she would be there to meet her first grandchild in a few months. She was such a beautiful soul, & will be forever missed by so many.

Derek battled with addiction for at least 15 years. He truly wanted to beat the demons and had 8 months clean when the demons took him. Derek has two beautiful daughters that were his motivation for life and being a better human. He also has 7 siblings that he loved and hated all at the same time. He was a free spirit, always giving and full of life. He had no fear and would try just about anything. His infectious smile, beautiful dimples, and easygoing nature will be greatly missed by so many. Rest easy "Coggy". We love you and miss you so very much.

Matthew was an incredible man. He had a servants heart. He was so creative and funny and artistic. He was loved.

Janine was so much more than the disease that led to her untimely death. She was a beautiful person with a beautiful soul. She was a loving daughter, sister, friend, wife, and mother to her twin babies: Jack Jr. and Allison.

Janine had an old soul; I felt that from the moment we reconnected in sixth grade after a two-year break in our friendship (we originally met and became best friends in pre-school). She was wise beyond her years, and though she was only one year older than me, she was often more of a second mother or older sister to me than a best friend. She was the person I always went to for advice. She was someone who would never judge me or think any worse of me no matter what I said or did. She was always there for me. But enough about me. I want to talk about Janine.

I want to tell you about her infectious laugh and her cheerful spirit which had always shown through, even during her darkest moments. I want to tell you how she was the person who could always make friends with the loneliest person in the crowd, the person no one else would waste their time or energy talking to. She could always make them talk. And laugh. And feel loved and welcomed. I want to tell you how she would give you the coat off her back, even if it left her freezing. That is the kind of person she was. That was the kind of love she had.

If you ever needed her, she would be there in a moment's notice; no hesitation, no questions asked. Janine brought me soup and bread when I was sick. She drove me around in her car late at night when I was sad and needed a friend to listen. She went out of her way to be there for every special occasion; she made sure that every achievement no matter how big or small would not go unnoticed. She loved in a way few are capable of even understanding.

Janine's journey down the dark path of substance abuse started when she was legally prescribed opioids for pain. Like so many others, she soon grew tolerant and her prescribed medications no longer provided the relief they once had. Eventually, after a long struggle, she turned to heroin. It was cheaper. It was more accessible. It stopped the pain. And it was addictive as hell. She found recovery; she made it nine months substance-free. She started working again. She started taking care of herself again. She started realizing the many factors that led her down that road; a road she never wanted to be dragged down again. But one moment, one temptation to use again was all that it took to take her away from us. The world is a darker place without her light in it. There is not one moment of one day that I am not thinking of her.

We love you Janine, now and always. Your babies are safe in our care. We will make sure they know just how much you loved them. Please watch over us. And please: if you have a loved one struggling with substance use disorder, tell them you love them. And be there when they are ready to accept your help. Everyone deserves another chance at life.

"See you in the car."