DemonLlama
DIS Veteran
- Joined
- Jun 27, 2000
- Messages
- 4,021
I love to vent as much as the next person, don't get me wrong. But I've got a reality check that I use to get my perspective back about how rotten I'm feeling. I wanted to share it with you and hope you'll do the same.
Last summer my daughter started her gymnastics career on "pre-team," a group of girls who would be learning their skills to start competing the next season. Some of the moms stayed for practice, and since we drive in from out of town, I was always there, chatting with other moms. One of the moms, Susan, had a son, Josh, a year younger than my son, who was 9, and they played while the girls (her daughter is Jennifer, and both girls are 7) practiced. We struck up a friendship over the months. She was recently divorced, ex didn't seem to make a lot of time for the kids, and she was putting herself through nursing school.
The practice before Thanksgiving we were comparing plans for the holiday. After a big celebration, she and her mom were going up north to visit a terminally ill relative; her dad was keeping Jenn and Josh.
The Saturday after Thanksgiving a train hit her father's truck, killing her father and Josh instantly. Jennifer died the next morning. Susan and her mom got that unspeakably awful call long distance and had to wait until the first available flight out Sunday morning to get home. The hospital kept Jenn on life support until they could arrive and say goodbye.
How do you go on having lost your 7 year old baby girl, your 8 year old baby boy, and your dad? Susan, the strongest woman I have ever had the fortune to know, stood over those three caskets the following Friday and spoke through the flow of tears to the packed church. There was not a dry eye in the house as she recounted her love for the three of them, and how she knew her dad was watching over her children in heaven. She closed by reading this scripture:
"For we know that the sufferings of this life are nothing compared to the glory that awaits us" (Romans 8:18).
When I'm feeling sorry for myself, that memory is what puts it all in perspective for me.
How about you?
Last summer my daughter started her gymnastics career on "pre-team," a group of girls who would be learning their skills to start competing the next season. Some of the moms stayed for practice, and since we drive in from out of town, I was always there, chatting with other moms. One of the moms, Susan, had a son, Josh, a year younger than my son, who was 9, and they played while the girls (her daughter is Jennifer, and both girls are 7) practiced. We struck up a friendship over the months. She was recently divorced, ex didn't seem to make a lot of time for the kids, and she was putting herself through nursing school.
The practice before Thanksgiving we were comparing plans for the holiday. After a big celebration, she and her mom were going up north to visit a terminally ill relative; her dad was keeping Jenn and Josh.
The Saturday after Thanksgiving a train hit her father's truck, killing her father and Josh instantly. Jennifer died the next morning. Susan and her mom got that unspeakably awful call long distance and had to wait until the first available flight out Sunday morning to get home. The hospital kept Jenn on life support until they could arrive and say goodbye.
How do you go on having lost your 7 year old baby girl, your 8 year old baby boy, and your dad? Susan, the strongest woman I have ever had the fortune to know, stood over those three caskets the following Friday and spoke through the flow of tears to the packed church. There was not a dry eye in the house as she recounted her love for the three of them, and how she knew her dad was watching over her children in heaven. She closed by reading this scripture:
"For we know that the sufferings of this life are nothing compared to the glory that awaits us" (Romans 8:18).
When I'm feeling sorry for myself, that memory is what puts it all in perspective for me.
How about you?
So I vent and I am done with it... I dont dwell on things too long... i've even noticed little crows feet in the sides of my eyes... and you knwo what? I like them... they are from smiling 
