More Sad News in the Neighborhood

One of our neighbors just stopped by. Saw Spouse outside and came to tell us his son, just a couple of years older than Son, committed suicide some time Monday evening or Tuesday morning.

I'm still feeling sick. And it puts everything I moan and groan about into a new perspective. My troubles are easy troubles. My griefs are nothing. How awful.

So why write about someone else's sorrow on my blog? I don't know. I guess it's a kind of desperate plea for someone, somewhere, to make things better. Do we know how to roll back time and restart? How often have I wished we could.

My neighbor said it wasn't entirely a surprise. The boy had tried before, and one of his counselors had warned he would try again. In fact, she said he was likely to correct the mistakes of the earlier attempt and succeed. He did.

Sometimes we are so helpless when we are confronted by another's anguish. We love. We exhort. We encourage. But sometimes they still go away.

Although I did not know the boy, except by name, this news will affect me for a time. Sadly, I will soon forget the emotions I feel now. His parents never will. Not while they walk the earth.

A lot of things fell upon this young boy at the same time. Things he shouldn't have cared about at his young age. The world financial collapse bothered him. That our government should be proven to be as corrupt and evil (torture and such) as our "enemies" bothered him. Banks, corruption, war. These are not things a fourteen-year-old boy should be carrying.

Inevitably, the news makes me worry for my own son. He is entering that turbulent time of teenagers in which everything is either the best or the worst. However things are now, that is how they will be forever. And it's all my fault. The horrible time of being a teenager.

Made Son go to school this morning. He said he wasn't feeling well, but I got the distinct impression he was afraid about something. He had at least one homework assignment he had neglected to complete yesterday. Perhaps there was another. In any case, I could tell he was hoping I would let him stay home. I didn't. I didn't get a kiss when he left the car either. So now I'm going to be all teary until I bring him home again.

It's hard to be a parent. But I've got it a hell of a lot easier than the man across the street.

UPDATE: I went to school and brought Son home early. He is still not feeling well. Got a hug. [smiles] I'm not a good parent, though, am I?