We used to talk about boys and cars when we were in high school. She lived in the town over from mine and our parents were friends. I liked her, she liked me and we were kids.
About a year ago, her son, a senior in high school with the world at his feet, started having problems. An athletic kid, he played baseball and basketball with some abandon according to Squirrelly, who knows these things. Squirrelly knows a lot about the kids in this area when it comes to sports.
His heart, however, was broken. Not in the way that most teenagers deal with. It was literally broken, as is his brother’s.
He sits this morning at Vanderbilt. He must have a new one and he is waiting. If he doesn’t get a heart, well, let’s just say, he has to have one.
I remember his mother. We talked about boys and cars.
My perceived problems are insignificant this morning as I can’t imagine what she’s going through.
Your perceived problems are still legitimate, but yes, perspective plays its part. My best to your friend and her family. You’ve touched me this morning.
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