My life spiraled out of control more than I ever thought possible after the death of my two-year-old son, Kyle. Having excelled in business and winning wrestling championships and scholarships, even when I had been drinking, I still could not help my son stay alive. Dealing with my pain and guilt, I spent the next twenty years in and out of prison and numerous rehabilitation centers for alcohol and drug addiction.

I wrote the first draft of my story in 2013, just before I went into prison for the last time. Putting my story on paper made it real and taught me how self-centered I was. I blamed everyone and everything around me to avoid looking at myself in the mirror.

My life changed the day I stopped asking God why my child was taken from me and finally got on my knees and asked God to lead me in the direction of a new and healthy life. My story evolved over the years as I changed and let God back into my life gradually and cautiously. Now, looking back, I realize God never left me. God kept putting people in my path to help me. Due to other priorities, I missed the many signs from Heaven. Most importantly, I learned that hurting myself was easy and that living is hard but worth it.

My son, Kyle also saved my life, showed me how to live, and told me, “No matter what, I love you.” I love you too, Kyle! I honor Kyle’s life and death every day by thanking him every morning for giving me my life back.