Stacks on Deck

Sam would wear a big grin when he wore the Monopoly Mr. Money Bags t-shirt claiming “Stacks on Deck.”  I can only imagine now the meaning behind his liking of the t-shirt.  If I once knew, the four years that have screeched by since his death have left me unknowing.

I wasn’t smiling today as I sat across from my new financial advisor.  Tears streamed down both cheeks as I continuously wiped them away and expressed words emotionlessly that Sam was dead; the money in his account was not going to be used by him.  Money from stock dividends for his high school grades from an above 4.0 GPA.  As a sophomore, he died unknowingly taking a dangerous synthetic drug called N-BOMe.

The ache in my heart that accompanied the tears silently screamed “don’t close another door.”  The look from the lady across the desk was compassionate and her eyes expressed care… as a mom, I imagine. Behind her on the credenza were nicely framed pictures of two likely-middle school boys not more than a year or two apart in age.  Both boys wore navy short-sleeved polos.  I noticed the boys had similar sun shades of blonde hair with summer crew cuts, freckles on their cheeks and big grins.  I can only imagine now…