...but for the grace of God

Life is full of irony, some more tragic than others...what was it my professor said? That the difference between tragic and tragedy was inevitability? And which way round is that? i spoke to Dee this evening. She told me that my fifteen year old godson was now totally off the rails, a habitual meths user and generally an anti-social nightmare. Last week he spent the night in prison because neither his father (who fought tooth and claw for residential custody) nor his mother (who finally gave in to the father's bombardment) could bear the thought of having him at home. Mother and father do not, typically in this day and age, live together. The irony struck me that that my godson actually typified the many youngsters that i now work with..in fact, there is a slim possibility that he may turn up as one of my case files at some point. And then i thought how close Gee has been to ending up in the same position, and about all the many infintesimal small differences that go into creating a different result, and about how lucky i am, and how blessed. it niggles at my conscience of course, because he is my godson, and i feel that i should have tipped the scales somehow, made a difference, rebalanced the deficits somehow or other. So i scurry now, desparate to pull him back from the brink, slip into my professional role and suggest websites, promise to track down contact numbers, offer a sympathetic ear, give well tried advice...it's going to get much worse before it gets better i tell her, as if any mother wants to hear that, and i think again to myself how frightened i feel, how terrifyingly close it all is to my own family, my own range of possibilities. So i scurry, increasing the pace, hoping that i can stop the rising crescendo of anger and frustration and betrayal that i know will loom on my godson's horizon every day...that looms on the horizon of every young person's horizon, should they choose to turn their heads and gaze that way.