Sunday, February 24, 2008

ONE WEEK

It never ceases to amaze me how the road of life comes at you in a series of bumps, detours and, occasionally, a beautiful vista within sight. Truly, nobody could - or would - make up some of this stuff. When I have friends or family who are going through a particularly bad time, the best advice I can give them is that things won't always be this way. Yes, they can get worse. But they can also get better. To people who can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, this can give some hope. We've all known people in our lives who have committed suicide. I so often think of a 30ish friend of mine when I see a beautiful day, or discover something wonderful exploring new places or even see my kitten do something that makes me laugh. I so want to say, "Oh, Peter, why didn't you hold on?"

I guess it is life itself - the preciousness of it - that possesses me today. I'm pretty sure this is because within the last week, I nearly lost one daughter to violence and was given the priceless gift of a grandchild by another; my emotions running from stark terror to absolute joy, with a good dose of gratitude in both cases.

One daughter was involved in a bank robbery, shielding one of her young employees with her own body, while an assult rifle was shoved into her back. She and the others came out of it unharmed, physically, but certainly not unscathed. As she sorts through her feelings, I am amazed and saddened to hear of how many of my friends have had family members or close friends involved in similar violent situations. Are none of us immune?

Six days later, my youngest gave birth to her first child, making my husband and me grandparents for the seventh time. Some people have asked me if the novelty had worn off for us, and I can truthfully say no. Seven healthy, loved, beautiful little people. How lucky we are!

But even little Kylie has a link to violence. Her dad, returned home from his second deployment to Iraq, had become especially close to one of his junior officers. Theirs was the battalion that lost proportionally the most soldiers in their particular area. This young man, Kyle, was one of them. His mother has already seen her son's little namesake, and cried what is hoped are some healing tears. This particular little mite, this miracle of life after all the death must be helping her father, too.

And four days later, these two daughters reunited as the older sister and her family travelled across Texas to share in the joy of a new baby in the family. Two people, one who has learned that life can be precaraious, and the other having no idea, have come together to reaffirm just how special it is to be alive.

2 comments:

GmanD said...

Sue,

I have been so wrapped up in my own world this weekend, that I never quite snapped to the fact that this happened to your daughter in the last week.

Thank you for the wake-up call, and this elegant post.

God bless you, and know that you are in my prayers tonight.

Gary

Dorlana said...

Hi Sue,
I'm so sorry that happened to your daughter. She sounds really brave. And congratulations - a new grandbaby.
Since you've been writing a memoir, I thought you might enjoy this challenge...
You've been tagged... Your challenge is to write a six word memoir. Read mine and check out the rules at Supernatural Fairy Tales.

Dorlana