Gazing to the horizon Warm yellow, inviting Looking back on what had been deemed Wasteland Trudged, heavy limbed, sore and heaving Through the gray never ending vastness Dust the only thing visible Tripping on the jagged edges rising One treacherous step at a time Now I see Colors Vivid specks of pinks and greens, magenta and coral, blue and indigo They were there all along Simply in shadow Gazing again toward the horizon Between the edge and me Seeing only gray Stepping forward nonetheless Determined to see past the obvious Knowing that the colors are there And the shadow is nothing to fear.
It has been so very long, and I don’t know where to start.
I am not the same person I was when you last saw me here. That is a good thing. Life should change us, and it has certainly changed me. The last you saw me here was in January of 2015.
It is now nearly January of 2021.
So much to tell you, but I think I should just let it unfold as it will. What wants to be told will be told in time.
For now, I will tell you that those kids of mine are healthy and well, and Zan is still my partner in Life. “Big Girl” is now 23, owns her own photography studio and clothing boutique, and is engaged to be married this fall. “Little Girl” is now a 19 year old sophomore in college, exploring her future, and figuring things out. “Baby Boy” is no baby. He is 13 and 5’9″, towering over his mother.
Eight days ago I was awoken by one of those ever dreaded pre-dawn phone calls, the ones that always portent tragedy. My 22 year old youngest cousin, Ian, and his 26 year old friend Jeremy had been killed in a car accident. Ian had been driving too fast for conditions, with balding tires, and hit a patch of ice rounding a curve on a local country road. The truck jumped a guard rail, striking trees, and both young men died on impact.
Initially, I could not comprehend what I was hearing. It wasn’t possible. This beautiful boy, full of life, a bright spirit with his whole future ahead of him, was gone. Simply unimaginable. And to make the incomprehensible even more unbearable was the knowledge that another family was receiving the same news as we were. Utter shock, profound loss, and overwhelming sadness surrounded my family. It was inescapable and heavy, the reality becoming harder to bear with each passing day until Tuesday’s wake and Wednesday’s funeral. The fact that Ian was the answer to 19 families prayers through organ donation was a comfort, but not nearly enough to erase the pain of our loss.
Ian was a hard working, happy, generous, warm, respectful, loving young man. He lived hard and fast, always a worry to his parents and our grandmother, but his smile and charm would light up a room. I knew how much we loved him, but I did not know the incredible impact he had on the lives around him until Tuesday.
The wake was scheduled from 4-8pm. His family received the last of the visitors at 11:30pm. The line of mourners for this beautiful man extended around the building and up the street. People waited outside in below zero temperatures for two hours, only to have another two hour wait once they entered the building. The sight was breathtaking. Hundreds of young men in their Carhartts and workboots, sobbing on their knees…heartbreaking, yet so comforting to know that he meant so much to so many people, and that he had such a profound impact in his 22 short years, as to leave a lasting impression on so many lives.
On Wednesday, we said goodbye to Ian in a standing room only Church, the sea of black silent, except for the softly echoing sobs. We mourn for ourselves, and for those closest to him that have to continue to walk the path of life without him by their side.
However, I am reminded of a Truth as we navigate through his loss.
It is not what we do that matters…it is who we are.
So often I have been guilty of wanting to DO something that makes an impact. I want to do more, be more, make my life count. What Ian has taught me, not only through his life, but also his death, is that the way to make an impact in this world is to simply be present in the lives of those around me.
Love, generosity, kindness, joy, sharing…that is the legacy Ian leaves behind, and that is the legacy I hope to achieve in his honor.
“When life is sweet, say thank you and celebrate. And when life is bitter, say thank you and grow.”
I really really really really really intended to be here more often.
And then life just got too full.
I am working very hard to keep afloat. So far, I have been successful, but it means I can’t be here very often.
Quick update:
Since you last saw me I have been taking two classes working toward my SBL (School Building Leader) Certificate. That has been keeping me quite busy in and of itself.
I am also keeping up with my School Board duties, and working on a newly born Parent Advocacy Group within my district. This has been more time consuming than I expected it would be, but it has also been quite rewarding.
Zan is still working from home consulting, which adds an air of uncertainty to our lives, but we count our blessings that he is still bringing in a paycheck despite being technically unemployed.
Add to that keeping up with my three kids and their crazy schedules, and Mama doesn’t have much time for blogging.
Life is good, we are healthy and busy, and life is full.
I will be back to tell you all about our second trip on the Disney Dream later. 😉
A Half Hour a Day 