In Loving Memory of Joel Chavez

Hello, my name is Lupita, and I am trying to raise money to cover the costs of my brother Joel's burial. My brother battled numerous mental health issues in addition to alcohol and meth addiction. After beseeching for therapy/ drug and alcohol counseling for 25 years, he finally accepted treatment last week and was headed toward recovery. We were all very happy and thrilled for him. He was discovered unconscious by his roommate on Sunday night, and when the paramedics arrived, they declared him deceased. The cause of death is still unknown. We're all devastated because this was his chance for a better life. We are kindly asking for help during this difficult time. Any amount helps, really. We also want to express our gratitude to everyone who has expressed sympathy and reached out to us. We are and will always be grateful to all of you. With much love, The Chavez-Cazares family.

**Below is a poem written by Raquel Martinez:

Joel

No Diggity was my favorite song as a kid- but I ended up listening to The Doors in my friend's garage where he lived. I was 12. What did I know? He gave me weed, and to look cool, I smoked it.

So I was punked, yeah, all the time. I wasn't the tallest kid, so I had to show strength and declare power.

Black eyes at the park, didn't you see me?

My body didn't want the green-started havin' cravings...

I gave it what it wanted: Febreeze, Glade, computer cleaner who cares-just give it to me. But then, Meth got the best of me.

Yelling and screaming- how the fu** was I supposed to know-I was chemically damned, nobody diagnosed me. -who are you to judge me?

I ran and ran and ran- the cops couldn't catch me. They were shadows and could never outrun me.

I fell victim to the prey, like a mouse to a cat or a flower to a bee.

-How could I know drugs were my enemy. Learn from me.

Normal? What's that? I was real, a real hot head, stay away from me...I should've been medicated, seriously. I self-medicated, let me be.

I didn't know I was mean or realize I was not me. I didn't want to hurt you or me; I didn't want to make you cry.

Please forgive me.

No one told me life had moved on. I wanted to return to my old ways- get away with everything. Instead, they intervened.

No one recognized me; I didn't recognize me.

I thought I could transform, but instead, I hang in the breeze. Can you see me?

I didn't mean to make you cry. Do you forgive me? I am not deserving of your plot, please don't give it up for me.

Please don't be angry at me, for this had to be my destiny.