Trammell called and told me to check out his friend's status on Facebook.
It's a kid (23) who played high school lacrosse with Trammell.
I read the status -
"Hey everyone I just want you to know im alive well and clean and living in a sobriety house in Denver. It's true I was in Arizona shooting heroin and a crack head to the max and became homeless and went through 60 grand in 2 months that's how bad I got. I was legally dead but was brought back and got myself real help and I want to say sorry to everyone I let down im clean 50 days now and going one day at a time. day by day now."
And I cried.
I cried because I am so happy that he was pulled from death and has a second chance.
I cried because 50 days is a long, long time to be off heroin and I hope he can stay clean.
I cried because I remembered "Senior Night" when he had no parents show up to escort him across the field.
I cried because at the end of lacrosse season this 6'2", 250, bald, tattooed guy took a knee on the field and cried. When the coach asked him what was wrong, he said, "I am so happy. I've never been on a team and treated like a member of the team before. I' can't believe it's over. I'm going to miss these guys. Thanks for letting me play."
I cried because it made me think of the insignificance of my own problems.
This put all of those "Yea Glee is on tonight!" "I hate Mondays!" "Why do people speed up to pass you, get in front of you and slow down?" statuses in perspective.