I can't look at the images of the suspected Boston Marathon Bomber. I don't see a killer, a maimer, the devil, one so evil. I see a son, a 19 year old college kid. His father said, "Not my son. My son is an angel." Is he? Was he?
I've heard that claim before, a parent's blind support. Growing up there where two brothers that lived up the street. They teased us. Pushed us off our bikes. Their mom said, "Not my son." A few years go by and their names are in the paper. Arrested for breaking and entering, stealing, drugs and sent to jail. "Not my son." And then the worst for a parent, their sons names are listed one last time. For their obituary, death due to complications, AIDS. "Not my son."
Is life so much clearer with hindsight? Or are we still blinded by love?