Beautiful Boy
My son is a beautiful boy. I cannot believe how he has filled out, how his body has turned into the body of a man; how his face is chiseled and so good looking. But also....my son is an addict. I never thought I would admit that on a public blog but there it is. It's a dark, terrible, lonely, painful secret. It eats away at the insides and I really struggle to get out of my head. I am 56 years old and I never in a million years would imagine that this is my life: that I would be desperately praying for and rooting for and mourning for and agonizing over my adult son. I always thought everything would be fine. Jace had a good childhood. He was surrounded by love and family and a private school with a small class size. He grew up exploring nature outside and doing fun things with friends who lived up on the hill. It would all be a wash in the end and he would find his way. I figured he would go to college someday, his brain would form wholly and he would figure things out like everyo