I didn’t know that I would be saying goodbye to my son for the last time. How could I have known? He was only 20 years old, still in the prime of life, still living in as safe a spot as any. There was no reason to assume, no reason to be concerned, no reason to even think that I might never see him again. Standing outside his college residence, we hugged and I said, as I always did, “I love you, Nick-o.” And I watched him walk away arm-in-arm with the love of his life.
A few weeks later, when the phone call came, I was broken-hearted, of course. I was devastated. But I was also thankful that we had parted on the best of terms. I was thankful that we had expressed love for one another and that our final words were affectionate rather than angry, that they were deliberate rather than careless. I was thankful that our sorrow was not compounded by regret.
A fact of life in this tragic world is that any parting may be our last. There are some who see it coming and
To continue...read the full-length post originally published on this site.
