I weep at the sight of the casket. Friends and family pass by his body. Memories spoken. Words rip painfully into my chest. His bright smile, belly deep laugh, compassion for life. The glue of his family. A young life cut short by one last heroic feat. Six best friends, white gloved, gently lift the casket. I selfishly grieve as if it were my child, Admonishing myself. Another mother lost her child. Forever. Six young men buried their best friend. And then it occurs to me. My son lost a best friend. He would have been there, had he not taken a different direction.