I grew up in the shadow of addiction. From my earliest memories, it was all around me—family members, neighbors, friends. But most painfully, it lived in my home. Both my mother and father struggled with addiction. It stole precious time, joy, and the kind of closeness a child craves from their parents. Addiction has always been a powerful force in my life.

In 2009, my mother was arrested on drug charges. Oddly enough, that moment marked the beginning of a new chapter. Jail became the starting point of her recovery. She spent 120 days incarcerated, and when she was released, she entered an outpatient treatment program—Narcotics Anonymous (NA). That program became her lifeline.

She dove into her recovery with determination and pride. She regularly attended meetings, built strong relationships with her sponsor and sponsee sisters, and actively worked the 12 steps. During that time, she also went back to school and earned her associate’s degree. She began cleaning houses to support herself. For eight years, my mom lived clean. Those were some of the most meaningful years of our lives.

But then tragedy struck. My father passed away from congestive heart failure. The grief was too much for my mom to bear, and she relapsed almost immediately.

I was heartbroken. My children were too. We had just lost my father—and now we were losing my mom again, this time not to death, but back to the grip of addiction.

My mom felt ashamed. She couldn't bring herself to return to NA. She didn’t want to face the people who had once cheered her on. The woman who had once been a beacon of hope in recovery was now battling demons in silence.

She struggled with heroin addiction until August 14, 2021, when she tragically passed away from a fentanyl overdose.

That day changed everything.

But I carry with me the memory of who she was when she was clean—funny, bright, generous, and full of love. I’m grateful for the time we had during her recovery. Without NA, I would have lost her much sooner.

Time~Kandles is pouring with a purpose.

We believe in second chances, in healing, and in hope. A portion of every sale goes toward supporting the NA Program—because it saved my mother once, and it can save someone else, too.

This is our way of honoring her life.

In Loving Memory of Anna Marie McClain