Wasted

I am stunned. My heart hurts. And I am relieved.

There was this boy I once knew and loved. He was precious and always getting in trouble, making my son's life miserable because it meant the dreaded grounding. Actually, I believe my son spent most of his young life grounded for something this other little boy did. It was my stand that "if you were there, then you were guilty."

As this little boy grew into a teenager, he changed. Matured. His wild streak was a mile wide. He was two years older than my son and hormones sent this boy off into the maturity my little man lacked. Their friendship weakened but never waned. There were still occasional overnights here and there, the last one two Friday's ago.

There will be no more overnights. This boy has taken another's life.

Yes, it was an accident; but nonetheless he is charged with felony murder.

My heart is breaking for a life well-wasted. For a spirit soon to be broken. For those summer days where sliding down a muddy hill was enough adventure. For my son.

And I sit here thanking God that it was not my son who lost his life. And I feel helpless.