I look at Little man and I see endless possibilities. At 7 and a half (yes, we throw in halves at this age;) the world is open to him. Whatever he dreams, hopes, believes...it is all out there waiting for him to learn it, do it, think it.
In none of my visions for his future do I depict that some day he will be 37, living at home, in and out of jail, constantly drunk, endless domestic battles, and finally, dying at a bus stop. alone. in the morning. fresh out of jail 4 days before.
In all honesty there is a part of me that wants to say, he did it to himself. the local police dept. will be less busy. there is a great example of a local high school cool kid getting by in life because he was cute, loved, envied. no big loss. I want to laugh at the people who haven't been in contact with him in years that say it is a tragedy that he died so young.
Then, I hear the sweet voice of little man, or amazing girl, or little mommy or the baby and I can't think these thoughts. At one time, he was their ages, 7, 4 or 2. When his mother looked at him, kissed his skinned knee, said prayers with him, sang songs, read to or cooked dinner for him, never did she depict that her little boy would turn out like that either!
When I look at the sweet faces of the angels the Lord has blessed me with, I can only think that yes, it is a tragedy he died so young. It is a tragedy that help always seem to escape. It is a tragedy that he was alone, the circumstances so awful, the call that had to be placed. It is a tragedy because he was someones child.......................
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