For Jason. May 5,
2008
"Mom, I've got some
news."
"Okay, sweetie, good news or bad
news?"
"Well, kind of... both. Which you
want first?".
I can remember having that
conversation. We had it more than once. I don't remember what the "good" news
versus the "bad" news was. There was never any really bad news where Jason was
concerned. Oh, there was the night he came to me, SO embarrassed, not knowing
where to turn. I'm reasonably certain that conversation started with "I've got
some news", although I can't be certain, because he had woken me from a sound
sleep. He'd smashed his windshield with his fist, because of it (I'm not sure
if that was the good news or the bad news!). He was WELL past the age where
most young men become "men"..... but he believed as I do, in respect for self,
respect for others, and responsibility for your actions. He knew, even at such
a young age, that if you gave someone your body, you were giving them a piece of
you that you could never take back. He'd done that, and he didn't know how he
was supposed to feel. How incredibly blessed was I as a parent that I am the
one he came to, the one he said, "okay here's what happened. Now what do I
do?" Of course, I did my best not to let him see me laugh, and explained that
what had happened that night was a natural part of life. We talked all night,
about love, and sex, and the difference in the two, and how he would experience
both at some point in his life, and learn Life Lessons from both. Oh, and just
by the way.... he loved Hollie til the day he died.
As Jason's eight Angelversary hits
me, I am left to wonder. What has happened to our world? Why do so many
people not value LIFE any more? How did we turn into a "ME ME ME ME ME"
people? When did how your actions effect other people stop mattering? When did
it become okay to cause someone a LOT of pain, just because you can? When did
constant anger, aggression and rudeness become the norm, rather than the
exception? When did it become acceptable to show a total, complete lack of
respect for others? When did, "It's not my job" become a mantra? When did it
become acceptable to simply disappear from someone's life with no explanation?
Yes, I have had to let some toxic people out of my life. But they know exactly
why.... because I had enough respect for myself, and for them, to tell them.
When did it become okay for everything to be someone else's fault (I'm late for
work because my Mother didn't dry my clothes." HELLO?????? They're your
clothes and it's your job). I. Don't. Understand. And I don't think I want
to.
When I remember Jason, and his
baby brother, I remember the "please", the "thank you" the "Ma'am and Sir". I
remember holding the door open, and helping older ladies (even if they were the
ripe old age of 25, compared to their 10) out with their groceries. I remember
the ENTIRE track team refusing to let me go to the restroom by myself, because
they didn't like the way the opposing team "looked at their "Mom"." Where did
that go? I remember, "let me help you with that", "I'll do that", "You sit
down, please. I'll take care of it." Where did that go? What has happened to
our young people? Jason (and Rick) would be appalled. I have a vivid
recollection of being at the movies with J. Three were two kids behind us,
cutting up (it was a serious movie). First, he turned and looked at them.
Next, he gave them the "glare". Then, he calmly got up, walked around to them,
and explained that they were bothering his Mother, and it would be best if they
stopped. That was all it took. There are a couple of young men at work who
remind me a lot of them (their Mom knows who they are). I can't imagine them
speaking to someone the way many people find acceptable now. I can't imagine
hearing anything but, "Yes, Ma'am" when asked to do something..... even if that
yes ma'am is said through gritted teeth, as many of my sons' yes ma'am's were.
It would be unkind to others to call them by name, but this is a public thank
you to their parents. You raised four remarkable children, and I am very proud
to call them friend.
Usually, on my sons'
Angelversary's, or birthday, I remind you to LIVE your life. Today, I want to
remind you of something a bit different. Yes, you need to grab every single
moment of joy that life has to offer you. At the same time, you have a
responsibility, as the future of mankind, to remember respect. Respect for
self. Respect for others. Responsibility for your own actions. Period.
You have a responsibility to own
your actions. You are going to become what YOU become, not what your parents
are, or your friends are. You owe it, to YOURSELF, to be who YOU are. Not who
your parents think you should be. Not who your friends think you should be.
Who YOU are. Life is NOT easy. There's a lot of pain involved, a lot of
heartache. It is up to you to rise above it, learn from it, and become a better
you. Carl Jung said, "I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to
become". I agree with him. Yes, the deaths of my sons' has changed me. But
who I have become since they died rests on my shoulders. I owe it to them to be
who they believed I was. It is MY choice to always try to behave with honor,
courage, dignity and grace (I didn't say I always succeed), when I'd rather have
a tantrum like a three year old, or crawl in my closet and never come out.
Because of who they believed I was. The times I try to drink it away? That's
my responsibility, too. By the way, you can't drink it away. Just thought I'd
tell you.
So, I've got some good news, and
some bad news.
The good news? Jason lived. He
was here. He laughed and loved. He saved lives. He taught me to see beauty
everywhere. He showed me what courage was. Injuries that would cripple most
young people were ignored by him, as he continued to compete (Remember he ran
most of a season with a cracked hip. Yep, my kid.). He showed me the beauty of
giving, when he helped his fiercest county rival stretch before a race....
then was the first to congratulate him when he won. He taught Alvin, too.
Alvin is a coach now. He teaches teamwork and good sportsmanship. Because
Jason taught it to him. He shared my sarcastic sense of humor, and made even
the "frowniest" (his word) person smile. He instinctively knew what people
needed... the clown, the son, the grandson, the quiet listening ear, the gentle
words of advice, the smile, the gentle hug, the kick in the ass.... he just knew
what was needed. And he did it. He left everyone feeling a lot better after
they'd been around him. He taught me the sheer exuberance of running (yes, he
had to drag me more than once. Now I'm itching to get well so I can do it
again), the joy in "skopping and hipping", the fun of playing in the rain. In
all his years of lifeguarding, he never understood people rushing from the water
for shelter when it started to sprinkle. ("Gee, Mom, whatcha think is gonna
happen? They might get WET?"). He taught me how to cry, because he was a
sensitive soul. He couldn't stand to see someone suffering, or needing
something. He'd give you the shirt off his back, literally. I know. I'm the
one who had to replace "lost" items. He was also the most creative excuse
meister I've ever known. His "scuses" were definitely.... different. Problem
was, they worked on everyone except his Little Mother. That young man could
sell ice to an Eskimo and make them think they'd gotten a good deal. People
were attracted to him like moths to a flame. Charismatic, charming, handsome,
BUILT, a natural leader. Like I frequently do (on vacation! Really! Never any
other time!), he never actually started the mischief (not criminal mischief.
Silly, fun mischief that harmed no one). He planted the seed, watered it
carefully, watched it grow.... and then sat back and watched. My kid. To his
toes. From the day he was born. Jason continues to save lives. I have the
emails and message board postings and phone calls that tell me that me not being
afraid or ashamed to tell his story has kept someone from ending his life. That
is a very good thing. Jason taught me to be kinder than I have to be, because
everyone is fighting some kind of battle.
The bad news? He no longer walks
this Earth, not in a corporeal body. Yet, he lives. As long as we remember, he
lives. And he continues to have a positive impact on this world.
For those of you who say I need to
"move on" and "accept my sons' deaths".... I have. In a 24 hour span, I have
had a regular guest bring someone whose child ended his life 2 weeks ago to meet
me. She said she needed to know that she could still live, and that if I could,
maybe she could. If I were silent, it would, number one, dishonor my children.
To be ashamed of how they died would be to be ashamed of them. I refuse to do
that. Iris Bolton says that every death brings a gift. You just have to look
for it. I think mine is to help others walking this path, and to keep others
from having to walk this path. Then, I had a couple of biker's in the bar. I
was being my usual mouthy self..... my regular bunch was there, and we tend to
raise a ruckus. It makes them smile, it makes them happy, and it makes them
come back..... and I truly love them all deeply. I wasn't about to leave these
to guys out of our shenanigans, so I drew them into it. Then one of them told
me that this was his kind of "grand hurrah" weekend. His friend looked
shocked. It isn't something he talks of. He told me a lot, and I listened.
Then I was quiet (yes, me) for a few minutes. I told him I had asked my
personal Guardian Angels to watch over him during his surgery next week. And I
told him, with total conviction, that he's going to be fine. He's promised to
come back to JJJ next Bike Week. He came in melancholy, with that "look" in his
eyes. He left with a sparkle in his eyes that wasn't there before. His friend
remarked on it. My gift. From my son. Because I believe to my toes that I
will see him again next year. And I'll buy his first beer. All because of
Jason, I helped 2 people in less than 24 hours. Is that a gift, or
what?
Many, many of you have told me
that, if I ever need anything, let you know. So, I'm giving you a challenge. I
learned with Jason and Rick's deaths that those are generally just words. Prove
me wrong. Click the link in my signature. Donate ONE DOLLAR to the American
Foundation for Suicide Prevention. One dollar. Nothing more, nothing less.
Then forward this to 10 of your friends and ask them to do the same thing. THAT
is what I need. To help save a life. Because life is so very precious. The
most precious gift we are given is love. Don't throw it away needlessly. If
you fubar, say so, learn a life lesson, and move on. Times are tough right now,
but tomorrow will be better. I refuse to believe anything else. Life might
take some unexpected twists and turns, but, in the end, it all works out. Try
to live your life so that you can look at yourself in the mirror every morning
and like what you see. Don't be afraid to say I'm sorry. Don't be afraid to
say I fubared. Accept responsibility, deal with the consequences, and go
forward. Much easier said than done. I know. I've lived it. Remember,
"I forgive you" has
nothing to do with you and everything to do with me.
"I'm
sorry" has nothing to do with you and everything to do with
me.
"I love you" is the
same. I say it, not because you need to hear it, but because I need to say
it.
My personal prayer to Mr.
God and whichever Higher Being you believe in is that you find what you search
for. Then, when you find it, grab it with both hands and never, ever let it
go. Those we love are gone too quickly. Don't waste a single
moment.
Dearest Kidlet, I love you.
Forever. I miss you. Forever. I need you. Forever. And I will be who you
believed I was. Forever. Run with the wind and party with the Angel's, my
Little Love. Save a spot for me, please. I'll have a Ciroc on the rocks and a
shot of Jager, thank you. Make something fruity for your baby Bro, and pour my
Andy a Miller Lite. Mom will have whatever has alcohol in it. See you when I
see you.
Jason August 5, 1974 - May 7,
2000
Rick August 5, 1974 - August 16, 2002 found August 24, 2002
You
may not think the world needed you, but it did. For you were unique: like no
one that has ever been before or will come after. No one can speak with your
voice; say your piece; smile your smile; or shine your light. No one can take
your place for it was yours alone to fill. Because you are not here to shine
your light, who knows how many travelers will lose their way as they try to
pass by your empty place in the darkness
I miss you, Andy. Kick their butts
for me, please.
http://www.runningwiththewind.com/
