CHARACTER

Kaden Love Jackson

Quick Facts

Who They Are

As a toddler, Kaden Love Jackson embodies both innocence and consequence: a beloved child whose needs become the justification for Lara’s worst choices and the engine of her recovery. He is the memoir’s heartbeat—adorable in his Spider-Man onesie and white‑blond curls—yet also the stark ledger of what addiction costs a family. The instant CPS pries him from his mother’s arms becomes Lara’s rock bottom; the fight to bring him home structures her path to sobriety and accountability. Kaden is not just someone to be saved—he is the “why” that makes saving herself possible.

Personality & Traits

Kaden’s personality is filtered through Lara’s gaze, which makes his small gestures do big narrative work. His delight in simple pleasures contrasts with the chaos around him; his fierce attachment to his mom exposes the harm of her absence; and his post‑reunification behaviors chart the psychology of trauma moving, slowly, toward safety.

  • Innocent and childlike: Loves the hotel hot tub, koi fish, and Wonder Pets!—a toddler’s world of wonder that throws the grimness of their situation into relief.
  • Deeply attached: Clings to Lara’s hand, sobs during her arrest, and hugs her through jail visits; his need is uncomplicated, underscoring how adult failures land hardest on a child.
  • Perceptive: At the Seaside Inn, he immediately asks “What sister?” when Lara lies about a credit card—evidence that even very young kids sense when reality doesn’t add up.
  • Vulnerable: Tells his brothers he “slept in a cat bed” and that his mom “got him lost,” conveying confusion and fear in a child’s blunt language.
  • Resilient yet traumatized: Returns home excessively polite—grateful for a single birthday balloon—then graduates to rageful tantrums and crippling anxiety; the shift signals that safety allows buried pain to surface and be processed.
  • Physical details that underscore innocence: Chubby toddler hand, pudgy cheeks, white‑blond curls, Spider‑Man onesie—the softness of these images heightens the horror of state intervention and parental collapse.

Character Journey

Kaden begins as a carefree toddler delighted by tiny joys, largely oblivious to the danger beneath his mother’s improvisations. The Seaside Inn staycation captures this contradiction: a child dazzled by bubbles, a mom paying with stolen credit. His world shatters during the arrest, when CPS takes him from Lara’s arms—the memoir’s most excruciating rupture. Placed with his brothers, he gains stability that keeps him whole enough to return. Reunified, he is overly polite, signaling the belief that good behavior might prevent abandonment. As safety grows, so does honesty: tantrums, then anxiety about kidnapping and separation. That anxiety becomes a family catalyst—Lara and Sam buy a house—turning Kaden’s fear into a concrete plan for security. By the end, he travels from emblem of Lara’s failure to co‑architect of her stable, loving life.

Key Relationships

  • Lara Love Hardin: Kaden is the axis of Lara’s recovery. Losing him provides the ticking clock—one year to reunify or lose parental rights—that forces urgency and integrity. Their bond evolves from desperate clinging to a steadier, reparative love as Lara builds the life his safety requires.
  • DJ Jackson: As Kaden’s father, DJ’s anger at “the system” eclipses follow‑through. His failure to complete CPS requirements pushes Lara to choose between the relationship and custody—a decisive break that aligns her loyalties with Kaden’s needs, not adult drama.
  • Bryan Love and Darcy: Serving as Kaden’s foster parents, they offer continuity and care within family orbit rather than stranger foster placement. Lara feels gratitude complicated by tension with Darcy over access and control; for Kaden, the placement preserves sibling bonds and everyday normalcy during crisis.
  • Dylan, Cody, and Ty Love: The brothers become Kaden’s safe harbor. His confessions to them—sleeping in a cat bed, being “lost”—are child-to-child disclosures that validate his reality and begin to metabolize trauma within a loving sibling net.
  • Sam: As Lara’s new husband, Sam helps convert Kaden’s anxiety into a plan: buy a house. Their shared commitment reframes Kaden as a partner in building family stability, not just a victim of past instability.

Defining Moments

Kaden’s defining moments pair small, concrete details with outsized emotional stakes. Each scene measures the gap between what a child should experience and what addiction exposes him to—and then shows the long work of repair.

  • The Seaside Inn: A stolen‑card “staycation” where Kaden delights in hot tubs and fish. — Why it matters: His innocent joy spotlights Lara’s denial and the memoir’s central paradox: love used to rationalize harm.
  • The Arrest: CPS physically removes him from Lara’s arms as she kneels, hands cuffed. — Why it matters: The narrative’s absolute nadir; it externalizes the consequences of addiction in a single, unforgettable image.
  • Reunification: He thanks Lara for a single birthday balloon. — Why it matters: Extreme politeness reads as self‑blame; he tries to be “good enough” to forestall loss, a classic trauma response.
  • The Police Stop: A broken taillight triggers an outsized police response; both Lara and Kaden are re‑traumatized. — Why it matters: Shows how carceral experiences echo across years, reigniting fear even after recovery.
  • Finding a Home: Kaden’s insistence that they move culminates in buying a house with Lara and Sam. — Why it matters: Security becomes literal; the home translates love into structure, and his anxiety lifts almost immediately.

Essential Quotes

Kaden runs to me when I get to the door. He is crying and holding his arms out for me to pick him up, but I can’t comfort him with my hands cuffed behind my back. I drop to my knees and his arms go around me. This image makes the power imbalance visible: a child seeking comfort and a mother physically unable to give it. The kneeling posture reads as both surrender and a vow—Lara’s first clear view of what her choices have cost him.

At that moment I split into two pieces. One is me floating on the ceiling and watching Kaden crying and pleading with the other me as strangers pry his arms from my body and pull him out the door. Kaden is there. And then Kaden is gone. Dissociation mirrors the institutional violence of removal; the split self underscores trauma’s fracture. For Kaden, the abrupt binary—here, then gone—becomes the primal scene of loss the rest of the memoir tries to mend.

He keeps saying he slept in a cat bed. He says you got him lost. Children narrate trauma through odd, concrete details. “Cat bed” and “lost” compress fear and disorientation into phrases that indict the adults without rhetoric—a moral clarity the book takes seriously.

He looks up at me, all blond hair and blue eyes and chubby cheeks. “Thank you, Mommy. I love my birthday present.” I see what the last year has done to him. A single balloon is the most he can imagine from me. His gratitude feels heartbreaking, not sweet. It reveals a shrunken horizon of expectation: safety has been so scarce that even a balloon registers as abundance, reflecting both resilience and deprivation.

“I told you we just needed to move. I’m fine. Stop freaking out all the time. Jeez.” It is such a normal fourteen-year-old thing to say that I laugh, and when he rolls his eyes I laugh harder. Normal teen eye‑rolling becomes a hard‑won milestone. The line lands as comic relief and victory lap: ordinary irritation signals that extraordinary vigilance is no longer required—and that healing has crossed into everyday life.