Dear Justin,

You are our son and our brother and we love you so very much. That’s why we all came here today, because we truly do love you. And we love you enough that we accept your decision to choose addiction over us, even though it hurts us so. We wanted you to accept the help that we have offered you here today. We’ve been hoping and praying that you would take this gift. But we also got together as a family and agreed that no matter what your decision was, we would accept it. So we accept your decision to choose addiction over life. To choose addiction over your family. We accept it.

However, we know some things today that we didn’t know before. We used to think that when we provided things like shelter and a vehicle for you free of charge, that we were helping. But we were instead hindering you from living your life to the fullest.

So from now on, as long as you choose addiction over this family, as long as you choose an unhealthy lifestyle over us, things must change. From now on, we can no longer have you staying in this home, or even visiting; because we can no longer support this lifestyle. We can’t have you call us any longer unless it is to say that you want treatment.

This is not us abandoning you, as you might be thinking, but rather you choosing addiction over us. We have invited you to come back into your family, and it is you who is leaving us by rejecting this gift. We love you desperately and only want you to thrive, but we can no longer enable this lifestyle. If you change your mind, we will be waiting; but until then this is how it must be. This is killing us to watch you live an unproductive and unhealthy life; to see the son who has so many abilities and talents not live his life to its fullest potential. So until you choose to accept help, this will be the last time that we can hear from you. Good luck with your choice, and we truly hope you do well. We love you so very much, but this is goodbye.

-Your loving family

Daniel,

I love you so much! It seems like just yesterday that I was sitting at the kitchen table in our home in New Jersey. I have no idea how I missed it up until that day, but on that particular day I just happened to look at Mom’s belly and blurted out “Mom, you’re fat!”. I’ll never forget the look of joy and excitement on her face. However, Neal picked up on that first and followed my excited utterance up with “Your pregnant!”. I can remember the day that you were born with such clarity. Hopping out of bed and bounding across the narrow hallway on my way to Mom and Dad’s room I was shocked to find Aunt Nancy waiting for Neal and I. Her words still ring in my ears as I write this letter with tears in my eyes. “His name is Daniel…” When we got to the hospital I was so excited. We had to scrub down and gown up like we were surgeons. I sat down, with Dad hovering over me like a hawk, as you were placed into my waiting arms. I was forever changed by that moment. I know now that I could not have possibly understood then how your birth would affect my life, but I remember feeling forever bonded to you. I knew that our stories would forever be intertwined and our relationship would be an exclusive one. A relationship reserved only for brothers.

When our family moved to Jacksonville I was in the third grade and you were going to daycare, or more specifically the Kindercare that used to be right up on San Jose. I remember picking you up a time or two at the end of the day with Mom and or Dad, and them letting you sit on my lap for the ride home. I’d hold on so tight, but if I tried to move around at all or adjust you in my lap you did not like it. You wanted to be right up against me and would pull close.

The years went by from there and we grew together. I remember some of your toddler years when over half of my Christmas presents would not survive to the next day because I had to “share with your brother!” You continued to grow and gradually became your own man with your own passions and interests. Whether I was watching you play roller hockey or manipulate that wooden rifle in competition, I was always impressed that you followed a path uniquely your own in lieu of perhaps an easier path previously taken by another.

I remember crisply the conviction and clarity in your voice when you were screaming “COOKIE SHEET, COOKIE SHEET!!!!” in the kitchen at Tallapoosa Drive when Raven and Nook-Nook decided to have another go at it. I’ve got countless memories of all night poker games at that house and Muddy Waters’.

I can clearly see you in my mind’s eye standing on the banks of Nantahala Lake during my bachelor party, fishing pole hand. That bleach blond hair and pale white skin in competition with only the sun regarding who was the most blinding. I was honored that you stood at the altar with me the day Phebe said yes!

Some years later, around the time of Dad’s passing, things started to change. I was caught off guard the first time I heard someone refer to “pulling a Danny”, later to learn that meant disappearing after becoming extremely intoxicated. I was equally surprised the first time someone who did not have the last name of Cosmo called me to discuss their concern for you.

I remember the fear and helplessness I felt when Neal called me to tell me that he had picked you up from the ER after the sheriff’s office found you walking down the road cutting yourself. When you were living with Phebe and I, I had the same fear and helplessness the night you drove home and were conscious just long enough to tell me how much you had drank before you passed out and I was totally unable to wake you. I thought you were going to die right there in front of me. I was terrified from the moment I called 911, during the ambulance ride to the hospital after the paramedics could not wake you either.

Then there was the moment that forever changed everything. The day I got the call that you had been arrested and charged with multiple felonies. The days, weeks, months and years that followed were nothing that I could have ever prepared for. I never thought that if I wanted my children to know their Uncle that I would have to take them to a prison. It still troubles me to this day that before Noah or Samuel even started kindergarten, they had already been inside a prison multiple times.

After your release several years later, the self destructive behaviours continued. I was deeply saddened that I got yet another crying phone call from Mom, this time because you failed a urine test while still on probation. Then there were the behaviours that cost your job with Daniel. Most recently, there was the very terrifying call from Tara telling me that you had just been in an accident and the paramedics had to revive you with Narcan!!

I know this is not the life that God intended for you. He made you on purpose, with a purpose. I love you so much and I’m so scared that one day, if this continues, I might lose you. I love you and I want to help you. I want to watch you walk boldly and freely into the next chapters of your life. I want you to discover God’s purpose for your life and live that out with his abundant blessings. I want Noah and Samuel to have a meaningful relationship with their Uncle Danny. I want you to be there for them, and I trust you to care for them and speak over them. I implore you, please accept help that is being offered.

With all the love in my heart,
Christian