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

She loved horses, tattoos, puppies, and most of all her children and nephews. She came into my life when I was just five years old. Like all sisters, we would fuss and fight, but I loved her unconditionally. Even through her addiction, I never stopped loving her. What I wouldn't give to have her again to fuss with....

I believe the hardest thing a parent could ever experience is to lose their child. On December 23rd, our son Rudy lost his battle with drug addiction at the age of 25. We are numb - totally overwhelmed with grief and loss. Loss unlike anything we have ever experienced. We ask for your thoughts and prayers during this very difficult time.

Addiction is a disease with unimaginable consequences. I will always struggle to understand how quickly this disease took over his life, consumed his existence, and why he was taken from us at such a young age.

Rudy, you are now one with Heaven. You blessed our lives in so many countless ways. I’ll always cherish each and every memory we shared together. There will never be a day that I won’t think about you. You are in my heart forever. I miss you terribly.

J.T. or “Jamo” as his friends liked to call him, was a a loving son, brother, cousin, nephew, grandson and friend. His sense of humor, gentle spirit, love of music, food, science, animals and most of all his big heart touched so many people. When he smiled, you couldn’t help but smile back. The sound of his joyful laughter will always be in our hearts. He helped and inspired many people as they struggled, just as he did. Always concerned for others and putting their needs before his own, he was an amazing spirit with a big love for life. He loved traveling and exploring new places and we will always remember the special times we shared with him on those family adventures.

She was a lovely, sweet, caring, silly soul. Loved her three children, mama, and daddy and her one sibling, her brother, and all her grandparents, aunts, and uncles. She was a light everywhere she went by just being herself.

Steven's first entrepreneurial efforts manifested as early as grade school, when he produced and sold illustrations to the highest bidders among his peers. He was a dedicated friend, giving a foot massage to his buddy with a broken leg, volunteering to protect his boys and take the fall when they were caught red-handed, and was always ready for an adventure. Steven studied the Tao, watched countless films, and played video games with passion. He starred in his middle school musical, and then later completed the training regimen that prepares Navy Seal candidates for hell week. His specialty was A/V production, and he aspired to produce music. He will be remembered for many things, but especially for his cleverness, his loyalty, and his big heart.

On Friday December 23, 2016, we said goodbye to my son, Geoffrey A. Sypher, 34. Geoffrey was a beautiful soul, an amazing son, brother, and uncle. He adored playing with his nieces and nephew because, in part, he was a big kid himself. Christmas with Geoffrey was fun because he was so excited to get presents and we always had to remind him that he was an adult and he had to wait his turn. He was an avid fan of the Giants and the Red Sox and he made sure everybody knew it. He loved fishing with his father, his best friend. Geoff had a twisted sense of humor and a brilliant sarcastic wit. He was also a supportive champion of the underdog. His big green eyes and his smile were unforgettable. Geoffrey left a lasting impression. Despite all of these amazing qualities, Geoffrey suffered. He fought a long, hard battle with addiction, but the monster was too strong for his sensitive nature and gentle heart. Addiction stole the potential of this gifted man from his loving and devastated family. It is our quest to help end the stigma of addiction.

His date of birth was November 24th 1973. Matt was a wonderful father to our two boys and a dedicated police officer.

He was engaged to my daughter; the father of my grandson. He was so intelligent, kind, hard working, and gentle. He was a good father. He had just bought his first house, painted it inside & out...he kept up the yard, and was very proud of his home. He loved the outdoors; cycling, sailing, hiking, and enjoying time with his children.

A brilliant man who deeply hurt and struggled with life after the death of his mother when he was 12.
He was a soldier in the Army at the age of 19.
He earned his Bachelor Degree from Florida Presbyterian College.
He owned and was the CEO of Bieder, Inc. in Clearwater, Florida, where he developed and marketed condominiums during the booming real estate market in the 70s.
He took his life after decades of battling binge drinking alcoholism, and I miss him every day.
He would have been 79 next April. I don't know if he would have lived that long if he hadn't killed himself because he didn't take care of his body very well, smoked 4 packs of cigarettes a day and had a high-stress career, BUT I would have like to have found out. I never got to see him past the age of 49. An age I am quickly approaching, and I fear that I am going to lose touch with my memories of him after passing that milestone.

We were blessed with Michael's birth on August 4, 1982, being the second child of our three children. We had three marvelously healthy, beautiful sons. They are the joy of our life together. Though brothers, they were their own persons with their own path and their own star to follow. They were close in age and even closer in heart.

At 29, Michael was a bright, witty, very charming, athletic and handsome young man. He had bright blue sparkling eyes, a gleaming smile and brightened a room when he walked in. We all loved him so. We received a special package from above when Michael was born and his sparkly eyes hinted that he was only going to be here for a short while. He needed to be handled carefully and we did everything to keep that smile with us. Yet, he was too sensitive and passionate for this world. We were delighted to share him for these short 29 years. We know that we need to go on day by day but we are all still heartbroken. We loved Michael as he was, he loved us as we are and heaven will welcome him with love.

As a baby, Michael was chubby and smiley. Carpooling to pre-school, he could identify red hawks in the sky and talk nonstop sharks, castles or dinosaurs, which he'd share with anyone who would listen. He-Man action figures were his favorite, often running around the house in red rubber boots and He-man underwear waving a plastic sword telling us all have the power which, of course he did have.

He loved soft, warm fuzzy clothes and if he could, he would have had cashmere gym shorts. When little, we would cringe if ladies in the grocery line had a fur coat or wore silk, we knew we would be fishing him out of their skirt, something that would follow him into adulthood.

Michael enjoyed his school, which allowed him to keep the teacher's dogs under his desk, perfected his hockey and where he struggled with French. Oh, how many calls we had from his French teacher. Yet, later he spent a semester independent studying and working in Paris where he learned to love French food, the French countryside, and Paris. Little did he know that in the future, he would be interfacing with the Paris office in his NYC investment banking position. Michael would say that he survived the economic crisis only because of his fluency in French.

Michael enrolled in college, graduated with two degrees, and continued into grad school but it was at these schools where he made special friends that miss him still. We thank you for being there to make memories of one another so you can re-live the exciting and sometimes questionable adventures with Mike. He always had your back and thank you all for always looking out for him.

As an adult, Michael was courteous and helpful. Somehow in the busy subway ride to work, he always had time to stop and help carry a stroller down the steps or show a tourist the right way to read the map. No matter how busy he would be, he made time to listen to you, really listen. He was quick with a joke and looked for the comedic aspects in life.

Forever a NY Rangers fan, he watched sport TV and argued trivia. Although a NY Giants fan, he'd rather cheer at the Jets games for the sheer entertainment factor. He spent his money freely picking up the tab for friends, going out to dinner and purchasing jewelry for girlfriends. Although he hated musicals, the Phantom of the Opera will remain a favorite. He could spend time in antique shops and museums looking for knight figures, unique glassware, prints, paintings and crystal trinkets. He understood good design and marveled at the Calatrava-designed Milwaukee Art Museum and its setting along Lake Michigan. He liked clothes but could never find a pair of shoes that really fit his awkward-sized feet, so most of his purchases would sit in his closet as he was usually dressed in a tee shirt and flip flops outside with the dogs or on his way to the gym.

Michael loved his friends unequivocally and they loved him. Even as an adult, he brought friends home and they soon made their way into our hearts as well and became, and always will remain, members of our family. Our home always seemed to be filled with a gang of friends and full of the hope, laughter, energy, spirit and dreams of young people. He gave his friends and family excitement and trepidations, but always with a twinkle and a smile. We thank him for that. He made all of our lives fun.

Michael Francis Pawlowski was a young man, colleague, friend and brother and he will always be our middle son. Goodbye with Much Love and God bless you, Michael Francis."

Tell us about your loved one.

Many of you reading this, you have children that light up your life. Brian was that for me. He began talking at an early age, and for the next twenty-five years, he never stopped. Brian loved the outdoors. Whether with his friends or his brother Greg, he would play in the woods for hours, fishing and searching for frogs.

As Brian entered elementary school, his struggles began to emerge. I watched him struggle with so many things we all take for granted: holding a crayon, and simply keeping his balance. When he began middle school, he had a hard time paying attention and he began to struggle academically and socially; he felt as if he didn't fit in. He was originally diagnosed with ADD. However, over time, this diagnosis included anxiety, depression, and traits of Asperger's.

Brian's curiosity was endless. We would end our evenings talking endlessly. He would want to know about everything: my favorite memories growing up, how I liked my career, how the people in the Dominican seemed so happy with so few material things.

It is impossible to describe Brian without mentioning his smile. He had an ear to ear to smile that was his trademark.

However, the character trait of Brian of which I am most proud was his compassion for others. I have spoken publicly about him crawling under a fence at Yankee Stadium when he was eight to give a homeless man a quarter. His favorite memory of high school was taking a trip to the Dominican Republic on spring break to play with children who had so little. After Brian's death, his sober coach wrote, “After Brian and I had lunch together he gave money to homeless people on the street.” Another friend wrote, “His big bright smile, easy approachable demeanor, and kind eyes are things that come to mind when I think about Brian.” It's a lovely memory.

Tell us about Brian's struggle with addiction

Brian and several of his friends tried marijuana for the first time at age thirteen. While his friends had varying degrees of interest, for Brian it was different. Maybe marijuana eased his anxiety. Or perhaps it was genetic. Whatever the reason or combination of reasons, Brian quickly became addicted, and as is often the case, over time he became addicted to more dangerous drugs.

Brian was sent to a wilderness program when he was seventeen. Throughout these years, when Brian was not relapsing, he was often reflective. He responded to what he read of Taoist philosophy in a note to me: “Emotion which is suffering ceases to be suffering as soon as we form a clear and precise picture of it.” It's similar to what I'm working on.

Brian was also deeply pained by what he was putting his family through. In one letter to my mother he wrote, “Dear Grandma Kitty, I don't know what to say about this anymore. I feel horrible that I keep putting everyone through this. Thanks for sticking with me and I'm sorry. Love and miss you, Brian.” Brian's relapses were many. After his last relapse Brian told me, “Dad, even when I think I have this under control, I have now learned that this disease is doing push-ups inside and getting stronger and stronger.”

After his last treatment program, Brian succeeded and was able to stay clean for thirteen months. However, five weeks after his one-year anniversary he tragically took his life. In his loving and compassionate note to our family, he condemned the treatment system for its lack of integrity. And although he did not state it explicitly, I believe he also felt enormous shame and guilt that tore him apart inside. It seems like yesterday we were sitting on the bench in our back yard when he told me, “Dad, three hundred years ago they burned women on stakes in Salem, Massachusetts because they thought they were witches. Someday society will recognize that I have a disease, and I am trying my hardest.”

What made Brian smile?

More than anything Brian loved family time and seeing everyone happy. He also had an amazing sense of humor and loved making us all laugh.

What do you miss most about Brian?

What I miss most is the emotional connection we shared. We were soul mates. As Brian once wrote in a letter from a wilderness program, "Dad, underneath we are twins; I see it out here a lot - Mom and Dad I don't think I've ever missed you more or realized how much you do for me and I want you to know I know all your decisions are out of love. Love, Brian." I miss Brian every minute of every day.

Reagan was born in Anchorage, Alaska and always considered himself Alaskan. He was the middle of 3 brothers - Sam (25) and Quinn (19). He was very quiet, but had a wicked sense of humor and when he did say something it would usually be hilarious. He was tender-hearted, loving and kind. He loved babies and little kids and dogs, and they loved him too! In 4th grade he became known as Ray, informing us that we'd given him a girl's name (he had a female classmate with the name Reagan) and he did NOT want to have a girl's name! He loved to skateboard and was pretty good at it. He was very talented at playing the guitar and liked teaching others how to play. Ray was always drawn to other kids who were sad or hurting and he just accepted them for who they were, as they were. When Ray went to friends' houses, we almost always got reports from the parents about how sweet, and polite he was and a pleasure to have over. Ray was our ""blondie-blond"" boy, with amazing eyes that changed color according to his mood, the clothes he wore or even the weather. His hands had ""simian"" creases on them and he was born with dimples in his shoulders. He was stocky and thick - not fat, but solid. He gave the best hugs and kisses! He was very sensitive and seemed to feel things very intensely, and didn't really know how to express how he felt. "