Three women looked around, saw the void in their families, and realized they could be the ones to fill it

The phone call Nechamy got from her mother-in-law wasn’t a shock.

Chaim, Nechamy’s oldest brother-in-law, was going on “vacation,” an extended stay at an inpatient rehab facility. Could Nechamy and her husband take in one of Chaim’s kids?

Nechamy and her husband had seen this coming. First, they’d noticed how Chaim — the former life of the party — stopped showing up to family events. He and his family missed the family Chanukah party because of “work” and they couldn’t make it to a sibling’s vort because of “meetings.”

“Is everything okay?” Nechamy’s husband used to ask his brother on the odd chance they bumped into each other.

“Yeah, just busy,” Chaim would reply, but everyone could see the black shadows under his eyes, and the way he couldn’t keep his gaze still. His wife looked the same.

What had started as taking opioid pain killers after they suffered multiple fractures in a car accident had become a full-blown opioid addiction for both of them. Chaim and his wife were stuck in the never-ending cycle of drug use — and their kids were paying the price.

The once-vibrant family was fading. When it came to their kids or drugs, the parents often chose the high. They weren’t capable of caring for their children — yet pushed away anyone who tried to help. “For years, none of us could reach the family. We’d show up at their door, and they wouldn’t answer, even though we could tell someone was home,” says Nechamy. “If we’d try to go to the kids’ school and speak to them there, they’d ignore us.”

Later, the family found out that Chaim had threatened his kids and forbade them from having anything to do with the extended family. “It was heartbreaking,” Nechamy says.

Then, after close to a decade, something changed. Chaim and his wife called one day and asked for help.