Getting Real

I have not had a good, hard cry since the Peyton incident. Tonight, as I was walking Lux I had tears pouring down my cheeks and sobs wracking my body. I think I just got overwhelmed with a few things...

First, a wonderful senior year teen in our town died suddenly last week. Alex, or "Dash" as he was known to his track buddies was crossing the finish line in a race and he just collapsed. His parents had to put him into a medically induced coma until they could figure out what went wrong. By the end of the week, they had to pull the plug. He was brain dead.

Read more about it here

We have lost a number of teens over the past two years in this town. Most were due to car accidents. Somehow this one touched me deeply, and as I walk past the huge church every day, I managed to pass by during the release of the people from his wake and Mass on Thursday. Seniors, hundreds of them, were gathered, shoring one another up, in tears... the grief was palpable. Heavy. Waves. Incessant.

I drove from one client to another yesterday and managed to get caught at the intersection where his funeral procession was passing. It took a full 10 minutes. I turned off my car and sat in silence, praying, feeling, hoping...

I told someone this week that I have a feeling that when a child is taken so swiftly from this world they must be needed somewhere else, Special Ops, some soul somewhere needed that person in a way that necessitated his loss. It is the only way it makes sense to me.

I hugged my own teens harder this week.


Secondly, my older daughter's boyfriend announced that he is enlisting in the Army next week. I knew he was considering this. I knew he had gone in for the testing. He told me how well he had done, which I expected, as he is incredibly brilliant.

In some ways I know this will be an amazing opportunity for him. He has been lacking some direction, and with a brain as amazing as his, that leads to no good. He craves brotherhood, structure, purpose. And he will get it...

And the other side of the coin is my fear. This war just became incredibly real for me, for my family, for my daughter. This is the first boy she has ever loved. For almost 1 1/2 years they have been together, laughing in my house, coming for dinner, snuggling with my family pets watching TV...I am afraid for another loss, the imminent one with his leaving for Basic Training at Fort Bragg. But more cutting is the fear I now have of the possibility of his facing combat.

So there it is. My Deep Stuff for today.

This won't be the last time I say this:

Fuck you, Bush.