By Bruce Lowry In the end, my son hocked his grandfather’s pocket watch. The same one he’d carried across Europe as an infantryman in World War II. The watch my son once told me was his most prized possession. In the end, its loss was one of the last chapters in a horror story featuring a Frankenstein monster called fentanyl. That’s because, in the end, fentanyl comes for everything – an addict’s job, their pickup truck, their loved one’s jewelry, their friends, their family, and finally, their life. Like other opioids that have battered and bloodied our state and nation for two decades, fenta…