It’s been a while since I have posted. Perhaps because I have just been shattered. It seems to me now that every emotional bump in the road just breaks me, once again, into a million pieces. J.T.’s 11th birthday was on the 19th and ever since I have been sitting in the dark trying to work this infuriating puzzle of putting myself back together. Maybe my strength lies only on the surface because emotionally this roads has given me no relief or maybe strength is being able to pick up the pieces and put them back together every time, I am not sure. I know this time I long for help, waiting in this overwhelming pile of myself alone and in the cloak of constant night for an extended hand of someone who can see past the illusion of strength to help me bear my load because the road has become long and lonely and the shattered pieces, too much for one.

I have taught my children so many things though out the years. The simple things, how to brush their teeth, go potty, tie their shoes, say please and thank you. But these things pale in comparison to what my children have taught me. From my oldest, Madison, I have learned to hold my chin up high in the face of opposition. She has this way of showing the world her strength and opinion with confidence and pride. From my youngest, Kenny, I have learned to speak up. “Hey look at me! Watch what I can do!” His voice always loud and clear as he states his intentions. Then there is J.T. the beloved angel who taught me courage and compassion because he was never afraid and giving, to him, came naturally. Collectively they have taught me faith because in them I see God’s beauty and promise. So it is for our Children…no, our Teachers that I say enough! Enough of these beautiful beings, who have only begun to give to this world, being taken from us. Enough painful e-mails pouring in telling the same story over and over again. It is time to stand and say enough so that we can continue to learn from those who teach us life’s most valuable lessons.

I had this familiar dream last night. One where I’m on a roller coaster and it’s clacking to the top of the first hill, my knuckles are white from gripping the safety bar in front of me. I am beginning to hyperventilate from my inability to see the course ahead when I wake up panting. But not this time. This time as I was clacking to the top I could see the course that lay ahead. I looked down to see the onlookers, those too afraid to experience this life, those who would rather watch, those who before now stand in the place I would have preferred. But not this time. This time J.T.’s spirit has consumed me. His excitement for this life, always the first to try and the first to succeed, the one who encouraged and inspired. His zest for life apparently contagious because this time I sat in the front row, here in my new found freedom, with a head full of dreams, precious pieces of the past tucked safely in my pocket and my arms held up high. I will take the ride for the experience, for the opportunity to learn something, and for the example it sets. When the ride ends and I rush back to the entrance to do it again, this time I will grab the hands of the onlookers and encourage them to ride along.


If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream.
Martin Luther King, Jr.


It takes a lot of courage to release the familiar and seemingly secure, to embrace the new. But there is no real security in what is no longer meaningful. There is more security in the adventurous and exciting, for in movement there is life, and in change there is power.
Alan Cohen

One day an old man was walking along the beach in the early morning and noticed the tide had washed thousands of starfish up on the shore. Up ahead in the distance he spotted a boy who appeared to be gathering up the starfish and one by one tossing them back into the ocean.

He approached the boy and asked him why he spent so much energy doing what seemed to be a waste of time.

The boy replied, "If these starfish are left out here like this they will bake in the sun, and by this afternoon they will all be dead."

The old man gazed out as far as he could see and responded, "But, there must be hundreds of miles of beach and thousands of starfish. You can't possibly rescue all of them. What difference is throwing a few back going to make anyway?"

The boy then held up the starfish he had in his hand and replied, "It's sure going to make a lot of difference to this one!"

pravsworld.com

How can this continue to happen? I approached this week with a sense of hope and while my hope sits flickering in the background my sense of urgency has come center stage due to the deaths of 8 year old Lane McCloud and now 3 year old Andrew Bahl. It’s an all to familiar and infuriating case of a Yamaha Rhino Roll over. The story follows:




3-year-old Lancaster boy dies in accident
By Craig Reber

NORTH LANCASTER, Wis. — A 3-year-old rural Lancaster boy died Sunday in a utility vehicle rollover on private property.

Andrew M. Bahl, 3, was riding with his father, Bradley J. Bahl, 29, 10933 Grant County K, who was operating a Yamaha Rhino, a utility terrain vehicle around 11:26 a.m. The vehicle rolled over, pinning Andrew.

Andrew was taken to Grant Regional Health Center and later airlifted to University of Wisconsin Hospitals in Madison where he was pronounced dead. Bradley Bahl, who was taken to UW-Hospitals, suffered a broken leg.

http://www.thonline.com/article.cfm?id=213657