Six years ago this summer I caught Aaron smoking marijuana. A 16 year old would have some experience with the drug before being bold, or careless, enough to light up with dad a few steps away. The proof I didn't want to find verified a suspicion. Through the smoke I faced Aaron confused. Five months later the drug had consumed Aaron and family. Choices were made, decisions were implemented. We live with outcomes for the better or worse. I'd rather not judge the decisions and choose to try to live with the results.
Today I spent some time at the location where that six year old day ended. So much has changed. I thought I never wanted to get back on that road of life which carries us away from the days of sorrow and heartache. Life appears to be a spiral instead of lineal. If hard work returns anything I expect my mind to be sharp and wise with the experience of life's brutal lessons. I'd like to not repeat the mistakes of my past.
I dream of saying the right thing, responding with wisdom to situations which should no longer baffle me. Keep dreaming. Sometimes I feel that the hard work was just hard. Did the work just smart and not give smarts?
Driving home my mind was reviewing opportunities to be more than I was; opportunities I fumbled. A United Way billboard caught my attention from a half-mile away. His Life is Not a Game. The prayer handed to me on that deadly day 5/10/05 spoke again: God let me hear the words you need me to hear-- A young person's life is not a game. My sons never need me to be their coach. They always need me to be a Dad. Other young men don't need me to be more than humble and respectful in and out of their presence. Saying the perfect answer every time is a goal I will never meet. Failure to meet unatainable expectations is certain. I wanted to be the perfect dad and certainly suffered the consequences of that expectation. A version of that mistake doesn't deserve a second look at the light of my days.
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