NJ Mother Pens Goodbye To Son, 15, Victim Of Prescription Drugs

Tracy Reinholt said it was darkest hour. She had just watched "Avengers: Infinity War" because she and her 15-year-old son, Hunter, were going to watch Marvel's next big installment, "Endgame," at the movie theater.

In other words, it was supposed to be a happy day. A bright day. At the very least, Tracy wanted it be a normal April day, one with her ending simply by saying goodnight to him, just like she always did.

Instead, the next thing Tracy did was say goodbye, to Hunter.

"No words can touch the profound sadness that engulfs me, but I am truly grateful for the love that surrounds me," Tracy wrote in Hunter's obituary.

Tracy Reinholt, a Jersey City resident, wanted these to be the last words written about her son, to be something he'd be proud of.

That's because Hunter was yet another victim of a prescription drug overdose, "a tragic tale – and as with all tales, there is a lesson to be learned," Tracy wrote.

And she wanted those words to be something that could help others, something that others who are dealing with the same pain, emotionally and physically, can take to heart.

Tracy wanted a legacy, something more than even the foundation she's considering settting up for Hunter in the aftermath of his passing.

"My darkest hour is now as I have to say goodbye to the love of my life, my Hunter," she said.

Tracy found him on Easter Sunday, sitting in a chair. "He took his glasses off an he was gone," she said.

He apparently had gotten into his grandfather's pill bottle. A few – maybe more than a few – pills were missing. They were a few too many.

Hunter had always been curious, that somewhat rare child who was ready to do anything new.

He was a sophomore at Marist High School after being a student in the founding class at The Ethical Community Charter School in Jersey City (story continues below photo).

Hunter was an avid fan of the TV show, "Supernatural," the videogame "Fallout" and "snacks in the bathroom," his obituary said.

"Fearless, outgoing, and gregarious, Hunter James possessed an incredibly open heart filled with empathy and dedication toward his favorite things; friends, family and a place that feels like home," his obituary said.

Hunter was also a "passionate advocate" for improving the lives of the homeless. No matter what, no matter where, "Hunter turned his heart, and his mother's pocketbook inside out for the people who needed it," his obituary said.

And Hunter was curious as he watched his father battle his own personal demons. Apparently, his mother said, that curiosity extended to drugs.

Hunter had been open to his mother about his curiosity. But Tracy was convinced that he had never tried them before, and probably never would.

They had just vistied with his father in Arizona during spring break at Marist High School, and Hunter didn't appear to be in danger when he went to bed on that Easter night.

Indeed, his grandfather did not know until later that some of his prescription pills were missing. He was using gabapentin – considered a safer alternative to opioids – for arthritis.

Hunter went to bed at 10 p.m. and he said was, “Love ya, mom."

That was the last thing he told her.

"My brave beautiful soul lost his life because he chose to experiment just one time with something all too dangerous," Tracy wrote.

"The epidemic of prescription drugs is all too real - please spread the word far and wide - especially to your children."