Over a Cliff

Young people are amazing.  They are wonderful and they give us hope for the future.  I work with children nearly every day.  I just love watching them and in my mind I call them 'my kids'.  I have 3 children of my own as you all know since I write about them on this blog.  I miss my 3 and love them very much.  I am blessed to have kids everywhere in my life.

Unfortunately, sometimes, life pretty much runs off a damn cliff and you are in free

fall.  In the past few weeks, three young people have died.  One, I did not know personally.  One, I met briefly and one...well, one was one of 'my kids'.

Death is a part of life.  Yeah right.  How easily that rolls off of our tongues, until it happens to you and someone you have treasured and nurtured is gone.  Then it just feels like the ultimate smack down.  It stops you in your tracks and causes your world to blur out while still revolving around you. You know that there are people out there going about their daily routines, but you cannot.  You have had this unspeakable moment hit your life.  A child that you loved, admired and honored is gone from your physical presence.  And you will never be the same again.

It does not matter in the least how these young people died.  They have gone.  They have made their marks on our hearts and now there will be no freshly made marks.  Folks, that is as tragic as it gets.

Because I am older, I relate to the death of any child from a parent's point of view.  I agonize over what the parents are going through and how they are coping.  I am touched by their simple messages or words.  I wonder how that parent is remembering their child.  As the skinny little kid with the scratched up knees?  As the rebellious teenager with a heart of gold?  As the cuddlebug?

It is difficult to know what to say to families at these times.  Almost anything I can think of seems trite and small.  So, like most of us, I just hold those people in my arms both physically and spiritually and offer what little comfort that I can when what I really want to do is wave a magic wand and make it all go back to the way it was.

I called my children this week.  I told each of them how much I loved them.  They told me that they knew that.  I told them that I don't say it often enough.  I tried to cradle them in my arms through the phone.  I looked through pictures.  I thought about all of the classes of 'my kids' and how much each of them touched me during the precious few months that I was allowed to be in their lives.

And in my heart, I grieved.



(If you would like to read the blog/website of someone that I admire who really hits the nail on the head when it comes to living your life, may I suggest that you go to Dirty Footprints Studio  You will certainly find something to take away with you from her thoughts.)