Heartbreaking

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When the boys were young they played with a kid who visited his grandma quite a bit.

The kid was always at my house.

Ate a thousand dollars worth of my food.

Yet, each time he came by we got a little more of the story. His father and mother were always fighting. His father didn’t work. His father was mean. Even went to jail.

I was careful not to say anything derogatory about his father, but I prayed that Grandma would get full custody.

“That kid doesn’t have a chance if he doesn’t get out of that situation,” I mentioned to Kathy.

The kid would pop in a little less frequently as the years went along, but I was really positive every time, hoping he was staying out of trouble.

Then he disappeared.

His grandma passed away.

He had no reason to come by our neighborhood anymore, and I’d ask the kids now and again, but they hadn’t heard anything.

Until last night.

For one reason or another his name came up.

“He’s in jail,” Jake announced. “Manslaughter.”

I felt my heart sink.

“He doesn’t stand a chance.”

He was a good kid who could’ve grown into a productive man...

...but his old man trashed him.

Absolutely ruined the kid’s development, and it’s not my place to judge, but that poor child couldn’t grow.

I did my best every time he came by. I made him clean up his language. I made him say ‘please’ and ‘thank you.’

And damn!

He was a good kid!!

Was there a way to stop it?

“What do you know about it?” I asked Jake.

“He’s been away about a year,” he said. “That’s all I know.”

Horrible.

He’ll get out.

Maybe have a kid or two...

...and ruin their lives too.

What a shame.

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