Hard Day

I haven’t forgotten I have a blog here. It’s just that life has stepped and taken my attention elsewhere for a bit. My planned post was going to be about my life changes waiting around the corner. About all those things, ups and downs, one faces when at the edge of the diving board ready to jump off. In spite of the upheaval of my personal life events, my outlook is positive and optimistic. But today…. I can’t write about those things… yet. Right now, my life’s quirks and quakes just aren’t important.

Today I was reminded how brutally fleeting life is. I was reminded how fragile we are. I was reminded that no opportunity to let someone know you care should ever be ignored. Today I am broken-hearted. Today I learned that, late Tuesday night, one of the kids in our youth program committed suicide.

He was bright, personable and disenfranchised. A victim of circumstances that left him faced with decisions and responsibilities no one so young should have to endure. An individual who carried a heavy burden of pain no-one close to him fathomed.

I’m doing my best to avoid the what if’s. What if I’d stayed in touch more often. What if I’d gotten him to the workshop Tuesday… What if I’d…. Selfish sentiments, to be sure. The thing is, one can never do enough. One can only do what one can. The important thing is to do. Even the tiniest gesture may mean, quite seriously, the difference between life or death.

I will resist the urge to step up on a soap-box here. I will, instead, challenge you to perhaps to get involved in a young person’s life. Be a mentor. Take your kid fishing. Get to every ball game. Read to kids at the library. Camp out in the back yard with your niece and nephew. Be honestly interested in their lives.

Listen to them.

Respect them.

Love them.

And let them know you love them at every opportunity.

4 Responses to “Hard Day”

  • Student of Life says:

    I am so, so sorry. I’ve lost several people close to me to suicide. It’s something you never stop questioning and never really get over. However, you have to come to accept that the person you lost is finally at peace. Imagine the tortured existence he must have been living in his own head to see suicide as his only option.

    I’m sending you big, big virtual hugs. You deserve every last one of them.

  • Yes... a Blog says:

    Thank you for your thoughts and “hugs.” I wish I could wrap every kid in pain in hugs and take the pain away. I know I can’t. But I wish I could just the same.

  • peacecorn says:

    Oh, Maudie. I’m so sorry to hear this. I hope you’re able to get some sleep tonight. I’ll ring you tomorrow.

  • Falstaff says:

    I’m so sorry, sweetie. The what-ifs will tear you apart if you let them. I don’t have any good words to help, because there really aren’t any. But we’re here for you.

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