Early on, she knew that he would grow up too fast, because with each bedtime story, he needed her less. He was a fast learner, smart and handsome. He wanted to play video games, well before others his age had an interest. He asked for a computer tablet and cellular phone at the earliest possible age. He constantly pressed the envelope on his bedtime. Sometimes, he would sneak out of bed and hide in the dark, to eavesdrop on R-rated movies that his parents were watching. Then the next day, he would ask questions that only a child growing up too fast would even consider.

When he started school, he was very independent. He got himself dressed, ate a good breakfast, and was excited about every school day. She always offered to help, but he was growing up too fast for her and valued his independence. Each morning, she went out to the front lawn and watched him board the school bus. He would wave from the window, and their yellow Labrador retriever always chased the bus to the end of the block.

At school too, he was urged to grow up fast, learning things a child shouldn’t have to deal with, like active shooter drills where you run, hide and fight. Now, four years after the school shooting, she knows it was silly to worry about him growing up too fast, when he really didn’t have a chance to grow up at all. Still, every day at three o’clock, she looks out the living room window only to see the school bus pass by, and the dog grown old, waiting at the curb.