One Thing That Cannot Be Fixed

Something I worried about Tuesday:

Why the breaker that runs the power outlets in the bathroom doesn’t seem to be working right. I reset it, and it trips again. So I have had no lighted mirror in the bathroom for a few days now, and had to charge my toothbrush in the kitchen. It is a pain not having my lighted magnifying mirror, and I am afraid the hairs on my chin are growing and I cannot see them to pluck them, that my face is turning furry and all the people with strong eyes are too polite to tell me.

Something I worried about Wednesday:

Why there is an ever-so-slight smell in the backyard that I hope is not emanating from the septic tank. Although I actually do not know for sure where my leach field ends and where my neighbor’s begins. Still, never a good sign to have a poop-iferous odor anywhere in the backyard. Could it mean that it is almost time to have the septic tank pumped again? Or are the blasted poplar tree roots growing down into the tank and blocking the flow of water, so that the shower is in imminent danger of backing up? Also the toilet? And the bathtub? Which would be so fun in these rainy days leading up to Christmas.

Other things I’ve worried about this week: Decorating for Christmas and the fact that I have not. President Biden’s health. Raphael Warnock and the Georgia election. My son’s college application process. His final projects and exams. How my day of substitute teaching would go. Whether my woodpile is getting wet because the tarps keep blowing off. How much it would cost to install central heat and air in this house because all the wood carrying gets a little exhausting.

If I could dissect every one of my thoughts for you, I bet there’d be a different worry for every other heartbeat. Maybe not that bad, but much more than is helpful.

(Because really: is worry ever helpful?)

How many of my worries ever come to pass? Warnock won (thank the Lord). My substitute teaching day was one of the best I’ve had in a long time. My son is making his way just fine through his projects and tests.  And all those alleged worst case scenarios? If the septic tank needed to be pumped. If the wood got wet. If an electrician had to be hired to repair my house’s wiring.  All of those things could be handled. All of those things could be fixed.

But.

There are things that cannot be fixed.

Like the thing I worried about Thursday.

That was the day my daughter told me about an Instagram post from our county’s sheriff’s department: a missing juvenile, 16-year-old Dante de la Torre. He was one of my son’s best buddies in first grade and disappeared, not far from my home, while working on a school project. He was collecting soil samples for his science class. He didn’t come home Wednesday and nobody had heard from him since Wednesday afternoon.  The sheriff’s department started a massive search Thursday morning with more than 50 search and rescue personnel, a helicopter, police dogs.

They found his body Thursday afternoon.

The sheriff’s department assured us that foul play was not suspected. The school district released a statement that said, “Situations such as these bring forth many questions. Often, they go unanswered or are the story for the family to share… We know that Dante was an exceptional student athlete, and the cause of his death was not related to any school assignment.”

Which really says nothing and is not so helpful for our grieving community. A friend of Dante’s started a GoFundMe drive with a $10,000 goal, and already more than $18,000 has been collected from more than 270 donors.  An addendum was added to the page, that Dante’s family would like the funds to go to school scholarships and charitable causes in Dante’s name.

In other words, they don’t intend to keep any of the money for themselves.

He was here Wednesday morning.  Something happened to take him from us later that day or sometime the next. We would do anything to turn back the clock, change events, shift even one small thing so that he would still be with us, studying for next week’s finals or getting ready for his next soccer game or school rally, where he was a spirit leader. What we would do for him to have taken a different path into the woods to collect his samples. Or to have gone somewhere entirely different.  Maybe waited another day. Brought somebody with him. What if what if what if.

This boy was deeply loved.

All our love for him cannot bring him back.

This is basically the one thing that cannot be fixed.