Jerry Parks, the man who helped in creating my mother and who raised her. My grandfather, a hilarious man who lived a wild life. A man who ran with the H.A. (my mother grew up with Sonny being around often). Who rode Harleys and blasted Bob Seger so loud you could hear “Night Moves” from three blocks away. A man who always swore he’d meet and marry Stevie Nicks one day❤️
He was not a traditional grandfather in any sense. He was rough, he was tough, smart and energetic. The guts and nerve contained in that man’s giant frame, rivaled that of any Goliath. He was hilarious without trying to be. I remember staying at his home and him yelling as loudly as he could “COFFEE IN THE MORNING!!” I’d wake and run out to him, he’d sit me on his lap and share his coffee with me. He was the father I didn’t have. The only constant, steady man I’d ever known in my life.
His home held fascinating treasures telling of a place in time when he was a young and rough, rowdy biker. Now older, finding more joy in crabbing than bar fights. Yet still harboring that mischievous wild boy, behind his kind aged eyes. Only noticeable if one were really paying attention. He was the storyteller of our family, the patriarch, the grandson of an old, southern preacher who had become the prodigal son, trying to find his way home.
Jerry Parks died at fifty two, in his sleep in the early morning hours on July 4th, 2011 of a fentanyl overdose. I was twenty one years old and had just met my future husband Daniel, who would pass away from a fentanyl overdose as well, just eleven short years later. An old school biker who overdid a doctors prescription and a beautiful thirty six year old man who had the world at his fingertips but was trying to outrun a past he just couldn’t escape, both following the same road in the end. Both taking pieces of my heart I’ll never get back in this lifetime. Addiction has taken so much from the ones I love. The cycle ends here. I will not become another tragedy in my family’s timeline. Yes, we know of loss well but we will also know of victory.
Beautiful words, Your grandfather sounds legendary. With all of that loss, from substances and for you doing what you are doing, and able to articulate it so well. I’m sure you keep making him proud up there. Thank you and stay blessed
You paint such a beautiful picture of your loved ones, truly capturing the complexity of their characters. Well done for choosing sobriety, it sounds like you have two very loving people living on in your memories to cheer you on this journey. Perhaps you could try to write about your experiences in a book? You certainly have a gift, and the kind of insight that could bring their and your stories to life. Either way, keep going. What an impactful pledge you’ve made. It will stick with me.
Thank you for reading my words I actually do have a publisher and I’m in the process of creating something. It will have a few stories from my life and experiences, but it’s mostly going to be other peoples stories of addiction and loss, and also stories of recovery. I want to show the humanity behind the addiction to try and tear down stigma surrounding addicts. From a first person viewpoint kinda thing. Not sure if it’ll take off or not but I’m hopeful! Again thank you!
Fentanyl is terrifying. More Americans between the ages of 18 and 45 die from fentanyl than from COVID-19, car accidents, cancer and suicide combined. Fentanyl is now the leading cause of death among U.S. adults. And my husband and I were smoking it knowingly. The fact that I didn’t die as well is literally a complete miracle.
Completely Agree, sobriety is the only option forward for us all
