Troylana Manson speaks about the heartbreaking loss of her son Aaron and its impact on her family.

She emphasizes that "overdose" does not capture the full picture. Many people accidentally take harmful substances, leading to poisonings instead of overdoses. This is how we have sadly lost many loved ones.

This speech was given at the International Overdose Awareness Day (IOAD) in Kamloops on August 31, 2024.

He should be here!

Aaron, my son, should still be here with us—living his life, navigating all the ups, downs, twists, and turns it presents.

All our loved ones should still be here!

Hello, my name is Troylana Manson. My husband and I are just regular parents, born and raised in Kamloops, where we built a family with two amazing boys. And no, I’m not biased—just proud.

My firstborn, Levi—also known as "Big Brother Levi"—is a kind, nurturing, and loving human. He’s here with us today. My second born, Aaron, had a zest for life, an insatiable thirst for knowledge, and an authentic way of being with his family and community. Though he’s no longer physically with us, Aaron is part of us every day through our memories, stories, and the countless moments that remind us of him. This is my afterlife with my son.

Three years ago today, I was invited to attend the International Overdose Awareness Day at MacDonald Park, where we lit candles in memory of our loved ones. That day holds a special place in my heart. I remember looking around, as I do today, and seeing my people—those who understood this kind of loss, those with compassion, and those who are present to witness our grief. It was like sharing my pain, with others there to shoulder it—a gigantic & collective group hug. And I feel that warmth again today.

I’m speaking to you as a parent, and as a member of Moms Stop The Harm, a national organization that brings awareness to a number issues, but today, specifically, to the grief and loss so many of us are living with. Today, we remember the tragic, heart-wrenching loss of our sons, daughters, sisters, brothers, moms, dads, aunts, uncles, grandparents, dearest friends, and colleagues—anyone from our community who have died accessing the unregulated, toxic drug supply.

It’s been three years since our lives were forever changed—three years filled with sadness, anger, and the kind of pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone. Yet, each year, thousands more families, workplaces, and friend groups join this collective grief matrix. As these ‘Grief Communities’ grow, we need to reach out, check in, and support one another. More grief help is needed—in daycares, hospitals, workplaces, and even in our k-12 schools—where even our children need grief supports, as they too are traumatized by these deaths.

We know how the disconnection and loss during wartimes affect families. In Canada, over 40,000 lives have been lost to toxic drugs—lives that were intertwined with ours. This loss isn’t temporary; it’s a harsh, stark, and permanent reality.

So, please, think about this. Take a moment to reach out and check in on those who have experienced this sudden, life-altering loss.

Our son Aaron was doing the work—figuring out his life, work, relationships, health, and wellness. But every day was a struggle; a daunting challenge. He was burdened by trauma—from being restrained and arrested as an 8 year old child in a school in California, to being pistol-whipped by a friend, nearly losing his life. He battled severe anxiety, sometimes to the point of being unable to function at work, school, or with friends. Aaron also suffered from sleep paralysis of ‘locked in’, which left him terrified.

And yet, every single day, Aaron sought ways to alleviate his suffering. We all do it—finding ways to take a break, distract ourselves, and find relief. For some, it's shopping, others substances, gambling, videos or gaming—the list is endless. But some of these coping mechanisms are more visible, more scrutinized or stigmatized than others. Aaron turned to both legal and illicit substances to ease his mental health struggles. Most days, he was on top of it—running, meditating, practicing yoga, working out, keeping up with university courses, playing music, and regularly speaking with his counselor. His big brother Levi was also so in tune with him, always knowing when he needed a break and finding ways to help him through. My husband and I were there too, creating space to talk through those challenging days.

In my eyes, Aaron had the pieces he needed to make it—but...not without mistakes, setbacks, and relapses. He had the support, the motivation, and that zest for life I mentioned earlier. But the one thing not working in his favor was the unregulated, toxic drug supply. This time, he didn’t know how much was going into his system, and he never woke up.

Today is International Overdose Awareness Day, but "overdose" doesn’t capture the whole story. Overdose implies knowing what’s going into one’s body, even if it’s too much. But what the coroners find is that the composition and dosage of these substances were unknown to the person. When you consume something without knowing what is in it, that’s toxicity—or poisoning. Many of our loved ones fell to this outcome.

And…they should all be here—living, figuring things out in their own time. Just like Aaron, who, with all his support, was trying to figure out life at 26. We all grow and adapt at different rates; we respond to challenges in our own ways. We need to be patient, compassionate, and open to seeing others as doing their best. Aaron tried every day to do his best. Some days, the challenge was too great, and he needed a break. Most days, he chose safer paths; other days, the risk was greater.

In closing, on this heavy-hearted day, International Overdose Awareness Day, I hope I’ve given you a glimpse into what 1 in 4 people face daily—a challenge to their mental wellness that takes a toll on them and their families, friends, and colleagues. All want to do their best; yet, some are in chaos; some are beginning to figure things out, and others are almost there. But they ALL need support—from family, friends, workplaces, and communities.

Today, we remember and honour with love those taken from us too soon. They were on a path—perhaps taking a different fork in the road than some of us, but they were our loved ones, and nothing can take that love away. Please honor your grief today, care for it, and know it’s all the love you have you embody for your loved one. I hope you can transform that love into something beautiful and meaningful, something that honors their memory of them.

Quote by Sohanna Mohanty - Little by little, we let go of loss—but never let go of love.