this morning #2002.

this morning, by the way he kept pacing back & forth across the kitchen, i assumed that he’d reached the end of his rope. what’s to be done about his oldest son? it was hard to watch. a man beginning to believe that he may be out of options. a man who’s probably right. i’ve tried to be there for him. given him all the advice that i have to give even though i’m not really in any position to be doing so. i’ve never had a son. haven’t known anyone who’s been to rehab once let alone five times. last month, i said some ignorant stuff about “tough love” that i wish i could take back. he paused his pacing. sat down across the table from me and with a long, resigned sigh & watery eyes choked out, “i’m going there to get him.”