Katie Granju: A Mother's Love and the Fight for Justice

 

“A mother's love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path.” - Agatha Christie
 

I have watched over the last year as Katie Granju has been torn down, ridiculed, and all but ignored by the people in power in her community who were supposed to support and protect her. For those of you that read my blog, you have seen my past posts about Henry’s death and Katie’s fight. To really understand the case and what has happened, you should visit the site she and her family created to document their fight for justice.

When I first began reading Katie’s brave posts as Henry was fighting for his life, I was educated in so many ways about the true depth of a mother’s love, and about addiction and the judgment, stigmas and pain that accompany it. I learned that every addict is someone’s child, worthy of love and forgiveness. I learned a lot about my own prejudices and judgment concerning addiction. Katie changed the way that I, and countless others, viewed addiction.

Then, Henry Granju died. I remember so vividly watching the videos Katie posted on her blog of Henry as a baby, a toddler, a young boy, a teenager…he was so loved. The loss rocked Katie and her family to its core.

Then, I watched as in the midst of her grief as Katie was treated so callously by various members of the local DA’s office and the sheriff's department, all because she wanted the drug dealers that provided her son with the drugs that killed him (and also did not call for help while Henry suffered for hours) brought to justice. 

Today, I woke to see that the three key people involved in Henry’s death have been arrested on multiple felony counts. While the charges aren’t directly related to Henry’s death, these criminals are off the street. I know that if Katie and her family hadn’t kept fighting, this would not have happened. It is so sad that it took a family in the middle of unbearable grief to light a fire under the system and make this happen.

But, they did. She did.

So this morning, I write these words through tears as I have learned something else. A mother’s love is stronger than a corrupt system, painful and hateful anonymous comments, deceit and betrayal. 

One mother’s love can withstand anything and everything to find justice for her son. 

Katie Granju has taught me many things, but that I know most of all.

Click here to visit the Justice for Henry website.

Click here to read more about the arrests and indictments.

Click here to learn about Henry’s Fund, created by Henry’s family to help others struggling with addiction.

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The Power of Kindness

In the last two to three years, I have witnessed beauty and acts of kindness that have made me believe in the power of the internet, online “community”, and the goodness of people. When Matt Logelin lost his wife the day after his daughter was born, people from all over the world reached out, offered help, and sent words of comfort so achingly beautiful, that my faith in people—strangers moved to do good things—grew exponentially.

Through the blogs I follow and writers I love, I have watched as total strangers have “circled the wagons” around families in need, rallying at warp speed to arrange fundraisers, support, supplies- and whatever is needed to help. I would read accounts like this late at night and go to sleep believing that despite everything else, the goodness of people outshines some of the dark headlines and random, horrible events that take place every day.

I still believe that, for the most part. But, I have seen the alternate power of the internet this past week—the power of words and anonymity that combine in cyberspace to do a deeper harm than it seems words should be capable of.

Part of the beauty of the world wide web and all pages we all stop and drop in on, is that the world is at our fingertips. We can “visit” cities that are a half a world away, we can learn about any topic under the sun in vivid detail, complete with photos, firsthand accounts, and historical data. We can read the words of prize-winning journalists mere seconds after they complete their keystrokes.

It is all incredibly powerful.

And while reality tv and that mindset have invaded our living rooms, we all feel it is our right to peer a little more closely into the lives of others, and with each breaking news story, we are offered details, photos, and minute by minute accounts in real time. We now expect it. Immediately. We demand it. It is almost surreal that as natural disasters happen around the world, we see the footage instantly, as it is happening, wherein the past we would have had to wait for the next day’s newspaper, or a news report on television at only 6pm or 11pm. This is nothing short of miraculous, even though it seems more commonplace than extraordinary as we have all grown accustomed to the technology that makes it happen, and our ability to access it.

We read articles on cnn.com or yahoo.com, or our own local newspaper or television websites, and not only can we process the words and form an opinion, we can also comment—share our views and beliefs in a forum where thousands and even millions will see it, our words just under those of the journalists who penned the articles. I have been moved in the past to make comments, especially in the early stages of the online availability to comment. But today, if you go to cnn.com and pick ANY article and scroll through the comments, you find very little substance, but plenty of hate, provocation, and a whole lot of nonsense meant to inflame, not to inform. It’s one thing when these idiots comment on a travel article and spew drivel about what a stupid place a certain area is to visit, etc. But it is another thing entirely when the story involves a death-the murder of someone’s child- and people belittle the loss as deserved or the fault of the parents. Especially on a local level, when one’s own neighbors and community members are the commenters, the words take on a new meaning. The power is immeasurable, the pain deep and brutal, and the ability for these people to remain anonymous in their viciousness only makes it easier to take the cruelty to another level.

I have watched this past week as Katie Granju has suffered because of the words of strangers. Katie lost her son last year, and amidst the pain and grief of losing her oldest child, she has had to fight to get authorities to conduct a proper investigation into his murder while being treated in such an appalling manner by so called “public servants” that I have been enraged and brought to tears more times than I can count. Her son battled addiction, and she has been open about his struggle, and her family’s struggle to help him with the battle he ultimately lost. Because her son Henry was an addict, heartless, uneducated people have told her such things as he “deserved” to die, and have said such other horrible things to her that I have found myself gasping reading the words, and doubting humanity.

I believe that everyone deserves to have an opinion. And maybe even readers of my blog who have linked to Katie’s blog and the other sites that detail Henry’s story and his case disagree with Katie, me, and her other supporters. That is fine, and while I am passionate in my beliefs, I respect that others may disagree. However, no one should have the right to say such wicked things that have no bearing on their opinion or the case at hand and have the comments released in a public forum alongside a news story or video. Maybe that sounds simple and ridiculous. And maybe it is. But I believe in kindness and compassion for a mother that has lost her son-- a mother that has never once portrayed herself, her son or anyone in her family to be without flaws, imperfections, or moments they wish they could take back.

In seeing this happening to Katie, I began to look at other news sites. I spent hours a few nights ago going to random news sites all over the country and clicking on articles featuring all kinds of stories, cases, crimes, and topics. And almost without fail, the comments sections made me nauseous. Maybe some of the comments had merit. Maybe some of these anonymous people knew a great deal about the families involved. But every subject of every story is someone’s son or daughter. Every person on this planet has parents and came from somewhere.

Katie and Henry taught me about my own perceptions of addiction, and educated me in ways I am so thankful for. And once again, because of Katie and Henry, I am learning a huge life lesson. I am a passionate person, and my opinions are rarely tempered. I believe that I am also compassionate and tone down my words in the right situations, but even moreso now, I understand the lasting power of my words, especially in cases and situations where I don’t know the whole story. While I don’t align myself with the people that have posted ridiculous rants about the outfit a grieving mother chooses to wear, or hate-filled sentences clearly meant to cause pain, I will always think before any comments in a public forum about the real people behind the story, and what those words will mean to them when they read them.

As powerful as all this access and technology is, kindness is more powerful. Kind words and acts in the face of deliberate hatred are breathtaking and inspiring. Thankfully, Katie and her family have also received a great deal of kindness and beautiful acts of love and support from friends and strangers the world over. I have watched through this last tough week as one day seemed more painful than the last, and the “army” of supporters rallied around her family on Facebook, her blog, and her other sites. I hope our words of kindness are ringing loud and clear, drowning out the other voices and hateful words.

I hope we are all learning the power we have-- the power of our words, the power of our love, the power of kindness.

The photo for this post is one of "Ben's Bells"--part of a project that Ben's family started in the face of tragedy to encourage kindness in their community. Learn more here. 

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Justice for Henry --You Can Help

I am going to ask for your help. I am going to ask for a few seconds of your time to sign a petition. Your signature will mean the world to a family who has lost their dear son, brother, cousin, nephew, and grandchild. His name was Henry Louis Granju and he was murdered.

I have written about Katie Granju before, and the tragic loss of her son Henry. (see posts here and here). I have been deeply touched by Katie’s love for her son and her strength in fighting for justice for him. The loss of a child under any circumstances is the worst imaginable tragedy, and for Katie and her family, this devastation has been heartbreaking. I have wept as I have read her words—filled with such pain and loss—sharing a story she can barely believe herself. I have watched videos of Henry and have seen photos of him from all stages of his life—toddling around in diapers, posing for family pictures, and holding a guitar in many of them, his love of music evident from the look on his face. Without knowing him personally, I could just see something in him—a beauty he could give to the world—so many gifts. Sadly, his life ended last year when Henry was just eighteen. Eighteen. He had so much more to give, so much more to do- he had only just started.

Henry battled addiction—a fact his family has never denied or tried to hide. He struggled to find his way back to being sober.  

But Henry died because he was murdered. And he suffered. He was beaten and suffered while the criminals involved in his attack (and who provided the drugs for him- a lethal overdose) refused to call for help and let him suffer for too long.

I cannot stand to think of anyone I love in that situation. I cannot imagine as a mother how painful life is after losing your son this way.

What has been worse is the way that Katie and her family have been treated by local authorities and the DA’s office. I have been shocked to read correspondence sent to her by the very people that should be her champions…Henry’s champions. They have been anything but. I have been awed by her ability to hold back telling the world these horrible things—while hoping and waiting that somehow justice would be done for her son. She waited as long as she could.

Now, she has told the whole story—piece by heart-wrenching piece. Not only has this mother lost her son, she has single-handedly had to fight to just get the authorities to do their jobs. Thankfully, she is starting to get support through lawyers that have stepped up to help, and through some articles and national media outlets.

Because Henry battled addiction, the authorities have called him an “unattractive victim” and have seemed to send the message that some cases, some people don’t matter as much as others. I don’t believe that.

I have written about how much I have learned and been changed by Henry’s story. Learning about this beautiful, talented boy who comes from a wonderful, loving family has shown me how much we all judge people and terms like addiction- even on some small level. We think of an addict, and an image pops to mind. But, anyone is at risk--whether it’s addiction or mental illness or life paths we can never imagine—we are all steps away at times from our whole world turning upside down. We can all say “I never would” or “My child would never”, but I promise you, no one knows what may happen tomorrow.

And all the Henrys out there…they are someone’s son, someone’s cousin, someone’s brother, someone’s daughter, someone’s sister, someone who is LOVED- no matter their mistakes or choices.

Henry was and is loved. He is remembered. He was a beautiful, talented boy who did not deserve to die the way that he did. I have to believe there will be justice for that.

Please help. Please take a few seconds and sign this petition for Katie, for Henry, for his family. And for all the other Henrys out there.

Click HERE to sign the petition asking that Henry’s case be fully investigated as it should be.

Other important links:

The Justice for Henry Granju website

Henry’s Fund- started by Henry’s family to help other teenagers in need of treatment for addiction

Katie's blog- Mama Pundit – she outlines all of the details of Henry’s case part by part here.

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Preconceived Notions

When you hear about an addict--what image does that conjure? Do you think fearful thoughts, judgmental thoughts, compassionate thoughts...or prefer not to think about it at all? I can say in all honesty that years ago, probably even when I was old enough to know better--I was judgmental when thinking of an addict, throwing this person I heard about in a category of failure or depravity that I couldn't imagine being close to.

I cannot begin to say how deeply I have been affected by Katie Granju's story of the loss of her son Henry. I know that initially it was just because in following her blog and her writing, I felt as if I knew her, even just a little, so it was very much like feeling the pain for a friend.

I had read her blog entries, following Henry's struggle for life daily. I read her words and worried for her, hoped for Henry, and learned more about him along the way. Something struck a chord with me. Something deeper.

And then, Henry died.

I have hurt for Katie, but somehow related to Henry in a way I couldn't understand. I am not an addict, have never faced addiction. But, I have suffered from depression and battled it many times alone and in secret because of the stigmas attached to any kind of mental illness. I have been so close to the edge of not coming back. I know that place. I cannot compare my suffering to Henry's. But I know what it is like to feel at the mercy of something that is harming you--and in the face of it being powerless to help yourself or make the right choices. It is horrible, frightening, maddening. And more than heartbreaking.

Then, Katie published Henry's eulogy, given by his father. This series of words made me catch my breath:

...Henry was a brilliant, beautiful baby and child who from the very beginning, simply felt the world more deeply than most of the rest of us. This special sensitivity was both his blessing and his curse. His inborn and intense empathy and intuition gifted him with a natural creativity that he expressed musically and in writing. However, it also caused him great suffering, a suffering that he never seemed to be able to shake completely, and which he eventually attempted to mask in ways that hurt him more than they helped him. Henry was – in so many ways – just too sensitive for the world into which he was born.

A few people who have been close to me forever--who know me well--and who have seen me in darker moments, have often described me in this way--feeling things more deeply....too sensitive for this world...I can see myself in that way. It has been a battle for me my whole life to separate myself more- to not be so deeply hurt by others, by the world around me. I was so struck by the realization that none of us can judge what we would or wouldn't ever do or be. We are all closer to the edge than we care to know. I could have easily slipped into the abyss. The path I took was not so different from Henry's, it was just another form of masking that pain. I think of the harsh judgment I have had in the past thinking of addiction--of addicts. And now, I feel I understand more than I would care to.

Part of the reason I have been so touched is that I am so grateful at this moment for my life, for survival, for making it through everything even though I fervently believed that I would never feel the joy, love, and peace that I do now. I wish with all my heart that Henry had made it through this to feel the same. I have no doubt he would have. The world lost an amazing person--not an addict. A beautiful boy, a beloved son, brother, cousin and friend.

I rarely post a video of this length on my blog, but I ask you to take the 20 minutes to watch it. It is Henry Louis Granju's life in pictures and video. Watch these images and ask yourself tough questions. Make others you know ask themselves tough questions about how we judge people battling addiction and those who love them. And if you have children...please hug them, love them, tell them how amazing they are. Do this in honor of Katie and Henry.

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Losing Henry

Henry Louis Granju 1991-2010

Through blogging I have come to know people all over the world, some I keep in touch with daily and are some of my closest friends, others are my writing “teachers” that critique my work honestly and help keep me on track. Then there are other bloggers that are such a source of pure inspiration to me—I read their work with awe, coming back each time to help me find a starting place for my own writing.

This was definitely the case for me when I started reading Katie Granju’s blog. I forget how I found her, but I am so glad that I did. While she and I on the surface don’t seem to have much in common- there is something in her writing that strikes a familiar chord with me and inspires me all at once.

So many people describe her writing as brave and honest—and it always is. But recently, she was braver than ever. She wrote about her son Henry and his battle with addiction. What prompted this was an overdose and viscous assault that brought Henry to intensive care, clinging to life. She had written around his addiction in the past, keeping this secret, this private pain. I understand that completely. These things are hard to share with close friends and family, much less the world. Friends and family can be judgmental, the masses can be brutal. But in sharing it, she has no doubt opened the door for so many parents, so many people battling addiction, and so many people who haven’t seen the human side of this illness to learn, to help, to heal.

Katie kept a bedside vigil with Henry as his condition has progressed, slipped, improved, then worsened. I read her words—the unconditional love of a mother—not seeing her son as an addict, but as the person she knew and loved. The joy of her life no matter his mistakes or problems. Her will to bring him back was unfailing. She peppered her posts with pictures of Henry—some when he was so young- holding a Harry Potter book too big for his hands…he and his siblings dressed up and smiling for family celebrations…Henry as a teenager with dark black beautiful curly hair smiling at the camera with his wise eyes…I have wept for her more than once. I wrote to Katie one night. I had to. I told her that her love for Henry—the way she was not judging him—just loving him and being there for him was so incredibly important—so amazing. Most people reading that would think that any mother or parent would do the same. The sad truth is, that is not the case. Especially with cases of illnesses that aren’t as “accepted” such as mental illness or addiction, some parents can’t see the illness and only see someone making bad life choices. Maybe over and over. It is hard. I do understand how hard it can be. But the pure love in Katie’s words, all the beauty she saw in her son…it has me crying now. And I know that he knew that, knew that he was loved for the beautiful person he was.

Henry died on the last day of May. I do not know how Katie found the strength to write her son’s obituary. But she did. Bravely, honestly, beautifully. As always.

One part of one of her posts has stayed in my mind, I think of it so often.

He was sleeping far more than he had previously and speech was becoming more limited. For the first time, he started using nonsense words or in one case, a very distinct made-up word that he used as a toddler and hadn’t used since.

In Henry’s distress, in moments when he was, perhaps, far away in another place, fighting this damage to his brain, he went back to this moment as a toddler using this made up word that Katie recognized immediately. This speaks to so many things—the memories our mind holds onto—our subconscious…but what I like to think is that Henry went back to a safe place in time, when things weren’t so complicated, when all he knew was love and joy. I think he returned there—to that familiar feeling-- because he was again feeling so loved and safe in his last days here—with his mom Katie always at his side.

Katie’s original post about Henry's illness:

http://www.babble.com/CS/blogs/homework/archive/2010/05/01/a-parenting-secret-i-am-no-longer-willing-to-keep.aspx

Katie’s blog:

http://mamapundit.com/

If you have a moment, please send her a note of love and encouragement. She is also fighting for a thorough investigation into Henry's assault.

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