One year ago tonight, at about this hour, Henry had just been beaten all to hell in that “alleged assault” that you might have read about in the Knoxville newspaper on the day of his funeral. You know, that “alleged assault” that left Henry with all those major injuries?
Yeah. That one.
By tomorrow night this time – one year ago – my sweet boy was fairly well incapacitated by opiate overdose, and he was trapped inside the house trailer of two evil drug dealers whose actions ended up killing him. That’s what I will be thinking about over the next day or so.
But less than one year before that, my gorgeous, sweet, creative, brilliant 17 year old son – my firstborn – was in the woods of North Carolina. He was camping and hiking and trying to figure out how to get sober and stay sober. And as I’ve mentioned before, part of the work his counselors had him doing was keeping a journal, and one of his journaling exercises was to list what he was grateful for at various moments along the way.
This was Henry’s gratitude list for the week of May 16, 2009. I just read this journal entry for the first time tonight.
(Thank you sweetie. I’m so grateful for you, too. I love you. And don’t worry. I won’t give up. I absolutely won’t.You know you can count on me. All the way to the moon and back.)