The Horrible

When I was five years old, my mom began working at the very small school that I attended. For the first year, she was a part-time librarian. This lasted only until I graduated kindergarten and moved to "the other building" for first grade. She then took on the position of a preschool teacher. She continued to teach 3K until my junior year in high school. The same year that my mother began teaching, another new teacher started in the 4K class. They quickly became very close friends as she also had two children enrolled in the elementery school. Her daughter was one year older than my sister and her son was one year older than me. We were always thrown together after school and during "teacher work weeks", not to mention all of the weekend shopping trips to Miami or the holidays that our moms chose to celebrate in a group, such as Thanksgiving and Easter. I grew to love my mom's best friend and think of her as an aunt or a second mom. Her son and I did not exactly run in the same social circle, but given the tinyness of our school, we probably knew all there was to know about one another.

After high school, her son joined the Marines. A few years later, he married a girl 5 years older than him with 3 children. She became pregnant right away, and he was shipped off on a boat. His wife regularly came to the Keys to visit his mom and would stay for extended amounts of time. During these trips, she would sometimes go on those weekend shopping trips with my mom, his mom, and I, and hang out with us on holidays. When he came back, she gave birth to their son and the family moved to a base in San Diego.

Five years ago, during my senior year in college, I received a phone call in my dorm room from my mom. She was crying and I could barely understand her, "Todd died." I collapsed on the couch in disbelief and began weeping with my mom. I did not understand. He was 23 years old and a Marine. How could he have suddenly died during the night?

Less than two weeks later, a memorial was held at my Church in Keys. As we approached the door, Cindy (his widow) was standing outside smoking a cigarette. I began crying. It was the first time I had seen her since Todd died. I gave her a hug and told her how sorry I was about what happened. My mom, my sister, and I went inside and huddled together and wept throughout the service. At the time of his death, Todd's biological son was about 2 years old.

Throughout the next four years, I heard stories about Cindy and the children. Not good stories. I continually prayed for the children and for Todd's mom.

About one year ago, Cindy was arrested for homicide by arsenic poisoning. Given the slowness of our justice system, her trial began on Monday.

My heart breaks for Todd's mom who is still best friends with my mother and who still works at the same school, just across the hall from my mom's office (she is now the office manager for the high school). The trial is being covered by court tv, I see articles everywhere (on cnn, msnbc, yahoo news, etc.), and on more than one occasion, I've wanted to beat up that wretched Nancy Grace.

It is difficult to put in words and publish on the internet how I really feel about the situation, but I will ask you to pray. Pray for Todd's mom, his son, the witnesses, the judge, the jury, and for a resolve to a five-year long nightmare.