Because I think we all need to take a breath and see something beautiful…
…because even in the midst of evil and pain there are still beautiful things.
Because there is hope.
Always.
Hope blooms
Hope
Tag Archives: grief
Conflicted
Beauty at the end of an ugly day.
Conflicted isn’t even the right word for how I feel today. Maybe there is no word that accurately reflects my feelings, and perhaps the feelings of a good portion of the American population today. But I like to think I’d recognize the right word if I saw it.
I thought, for a moment, that I recognized it in President Obama’s statement when he paused and said that at some point we’d have to address how someone who wanted to do harm could so easily obtain a gun. There was anger there, and I too felt anger. But in an instant I knew that anger wasn’t the complete feeling. This time the gun was obtained legally by the father and given as a gift to his son, the shooter. I don’t know how gun control laws would have changed that.
Maybe the feeling was intense sadness. Not personal grief, nothing like the families in Charleston are going through now, but still intense sadness. And a feeling of familiarity because we’ve seen this before. And it all seems so senseless, so hopeless.
Maybe that’s it; maybe what I’ve been feeling all day is a hopelessness. There seems no solution. The 24 hour news talks about race relations and how it’s so much worse now than it was when the President was elected in 2008. How hate seems to be so much more blatant.
Still I circle back to the issue of guns. I’m no proponent of guns. I don’t have any experience with them, and frankly they scare me. But I agree that people have a right to have a gun. And I agree that it’s hard to tell when a person is carrying evil or craziness or a combination inside themselves. This shooter exhibted signs, the news says, signs someone should have noticed.
Yet his father gave him a gun for his birthday.
I don’t know who is more crazy, the young man who committed the unthinkable last night, or the father who didn’t pay attention to the signs. The combination was lethal.
We need to open a dialog about guns and mental health. But if this country could not make progress on settling gun control or mental health issues after the 2012 massacre of more than two dozen innocent people in Sandy Hook what makes us think that we can have a relevant discussion now? When will it be bad enough for us to recognize that we have to sit down, throw out the politics, and talk.
So I’m back to anger. Maybe that’s what we all need to feel. Anger that it was so easy for the shooter to get a gun, so easy for him to kill innocents. Anger that we don’t have adequate mental health programs. Anger that we continue to cry and rant but don’t resolve. Anger that people’s lives are being lost while the politicians use this and other similar tragedies to support their own, preexisting stances which are bought and paid for by special interests.
Anger tinged with intense sadness, shadowed with hopelessness. That’s what I feel as the sun sets on a long and tragic day. How about you? What dialog are you willing to start or become involved in? What word accurately describes your feelings about all of this?
Let’s talk about it.
Norwood’s star
Norwood’s star reminds us how wonderful the world is.
Katie here.
You remember when I told you about Norwood last March? He and his mom Debi used to go out every day for a run or a walk and they shared it with all of us. Norwood was a very cool dog who had to go to the Rainbow Bridge unexpectedly and way too soon. Mama always called him “Dude” cause he was so cool.
Photo of Dude by Debi his mom.
Well anyway, Norwood is now a bright star way up in the sky. His mom made a lot of his friends their own stars and asked us to put them up near our favorite trails, cause he loved to run with his mom on trails through the woods and parks. We got our star in the mail a couple of weeks ago. It’s been sitting on the counter where mama looked at it every day, deciding where it should be hung.
I said it was a no brainer mama! It has to go in my park!
So Wednesday we went over to my park to have a private memorial for Norwood. Just my mama and me. Mama told me I couldn’t call him Dude that afternoon, cause I needed to be respectful. So I called him Mr. Dude instead.
We found a perfect spot, in a grove of cottonwood trees, where the gentle wind in the leaves makes a soothing sound, almost like waves on a beach. We tucked it back into the trees a little bit, so Mr. Dude will have shade but still be able to watch the people and dogs that pass by on their walks.
Do you see Mr. Dude’s star above me?
There was a little breeze and Mr. Dude’s star rocked gently. Sometimes the sun would make it glow, sometimes it hid among the leaves.
We stood quiet a little bit and sent a prayer up to Mr. Dude to watch over his mom and the new puppy Seager. Then Mama arranged for some songbirds to do a musical number and we walked slowly back toward the car.
Mama let me sniff as much as I wanted, no hurry she said. And then a beautiful Monarch butterfly flew by and fluttered for a little bit right in front of mama’s face. She says she thinks Mr. Dude sent it to say thank you. You’re welcome Mr. Dude! Sure was pretty. And then the best thing of all! A flock of ceder waxwings flew in formation right overhead! Mama said that Mr. Dude had a perfect ending to his memorial — his very own fly over!
All in all it was a beautiful memorial to our friend Norwood. Thanks to his mom for sending us the star. People are putting their NorStars up in parks across the country. If you see one on any of your adventures think of Mr. Dude.
Norwood–the dog that touched hearts around the world. And made us all smile.
For you Mr. Dude!
Assault on safety
Most of you know that my dad was killed by a tired trucker in 2004, and that since then I’ve been working with the Truck Safety Coalition trying to make changes in the interest of safety.
Today there was a semi and tourist bus crash in Pennsylvania. At least 3 people on the bus are dead and more are injured, some critically. I usually like to reserve judgement until we know the cause, but photos seem to indicate the semi crossed the median and the tour bus struck the trailer of the semi in the center, breaking it in two. There are photos showing the dark gash through the median, the front of the bus buried inside what’s left of the semi trailer.
Multiple dead, multiple injured. People who were here from Italy just enjoying the sights on a beautiful day. And on this same beautiful day I received an urgent message from Truck Safety to call my House Representative because the trucking industry is leading a full assault on safety in the latest appropriations bill.
Among other things they want to take away funding for a study that will determine whether the current minimum liability insurance commercial carriers are required to carry should be increased. The minimum amount of insurance is $750,000. That hasn’t been raised or reviewed in over 35 years.
Think about medical expenses which have skyrocketed in the past 35 years. Then consider there hasn’t even been a cost of living increase.
Think, too, about multiple people injured in a crash who need intensive medical attention. Did you know all claims from a crash are paid from the total available liability insurance? So if the company has the minimum $750,000 of insurance, and there are, for example, four injuries or any other claims for that matter, they all split the total. The minimum won’t be nearly enough, and expenses over and above have to be covered by the families. And when the families run out of money taxpayers pick up the rest in the form of medicaid.
The trucking industry would rather all of us shoulder the cost of crashes caused by their race for profits.
So on this beautiful day people were killed and injured through no fault of their own. And at the same time Congress is getting ready to pass a bill that will gut our ability to even get the minimum insurance requirements studied. The trucking industry appears to be in charge of our Representatives.
But there’s an amendment that will negate the part of the bill which would defund the minimum insurance study. It’s called the Cartwright Amendment, and it will be voted on very soon, perhaps tonight, perhaps tomorrow. Possibly Friday.
Here’s how you can help.
Call or email your House Representative. You can find out who it is by going to this site and putting in your zip code. Tell your Member of Congress to vote for the Cartwright Amendment which will remove the provision to defund rulemaking on minimum insurance in the THUD Appropriations Bill. Tell them that minimum insurance that hasn’t been increased or even reviewed in 35 years is not acceptable. Tell them that anti-safe trucking measures don’t belong in an appropriations bill.
Tell them you care about safety on our roads. That you believe they should stand up for safety rather than profits.
You can make a difference.
Thank you.
Special Dad
Memorial Day; remember
Today, Memorial Day in the United States, I wish for all of us to take a moment and remember. Remember someone in your family, or a friend, or a friend of a friend, who has served this country.
Remember that some didn’t come home.
Remember that some came home permanently changed.
Remember that we owe them all. And that we owe their families too.
And then get on with your weekend party. Celebrate summer and life and family.
But never forget.
WordPress Photo challenge: Broken
A family is broken.
On this Memorial Day weekend I think of this family whose life as they knew it was broken by a drunk driver.
To love a dog
Social media. Who knew way back in 2006 when I first started blogging that I’d meet so many people. Who knew when I stumbled across a blog about an agility dog down in North Carolina that one blog would lead me to other dogs with blogs, and their wonderful owners.
The years slid by with warp speed and, inevitably, some of my favorite dogs have grown old and ill or suddenly (at least to me) moved on to their next adventures on the other side. So many dogs.
I was thinking about some of them this weekend as my friend Ellen struggles with the terminal cancer of her second ‘Merle Girl’ Boost. She lost her Tika just last month and now faces the loss of another sweetie.
It’s almost too much to bear, and they aren’t even my dogs.
Tika in 2011
I was lucky enough to meet the three of them a couple of years ago. We even got to go for a walk and I felt honored to hold Tika’s leash while Ellen took some photographs. After reading about them for so many years I felt like I was in the company of celebrities.
Boost plays with her leash
And now hearing the tragic results of Boost’s tests my heart breaks for Ellen.
I think back to all the great dogs I’ve been lucky enough to get to know, even a little bit, here on the internet. Sarah’s Misty; I cried all day the morning I read she had been set free. Most of you remember Honey the Great Dane who danced with her mom at competitions and how sad we were when she had to go. Eva’s mother Hana who left Eva when she was just a puppy, way too soon, and Dog Dad’s Deacon and Essex the collies who had to go early as well. And of course recently Katie’s Maizey and Debi’s Norwood. Heartbreaking, all of it.
There are more, so many more, and all of these losses make me very sad — but the sadness never cancels out the joyous fun of knowing them in the first place. And as Ellen herself said many years ago, if you hang out in a world filled with people and their dogs you’re going to face heartbreak. But she says, and I agree, it’s worth it.
Katie the sheltie-girl puts it succinctly. “We are only promised today, mama, let’s go to the park!”
Sharing my park with all of you.
Good advice sweetie. And while we’re there we’ll take a moment to send good thoughts out to Ellen and her Boost.
Ellen and her Merle Girls
A message to the Secretary
I woke up this morning thinking about my dad, probably because of an article I read yesterday. It’s so much like our own story, and the stories of thousands of other families.
Many of you know about my dad, but some of you are new readers. And as I haven’t had the opportunity to meet the new Secretary of Transportation, Anthony Fox, yet I thought I’d share my story in a letter to him.
Mr. Secretary:
My dad was driving to the Atlanta airport early in the morning of December 23rd, 2004. He was planning on spending the holiday with my sister in New Jersey because most of us couldn’t get home for Christmas that year. Mom had died unexpectedly in July and we didn’t want him to be alone.
On Interstate 85, just past the Georgia line, he came upon an accident. Police and other emergency vehicles were already there, lights flashing. Traffic slowed. There was a car behind Dad who saw, in their mirrors, the semi bearing down. They drove into the median to avoid the crash, but dad didn’t have a chance. He was driving 14 miles per hour when he was hit and pushed into the semi in front of him by a 80,000 pound vehicle that was on cruise control going 65 miles per hour.
Dad was partially ejected through the back passenger window even though he was wearing his seat belt. We saw the car, what was left of it, later that week when we went to the junk yard to retrieve his Christmas presents for my sister, still inside his luggage, in the crushed trunk. There was blood everywhere, but a particularly long wide stain running down the inside of the back seat door held my attention.
The image shocks you doesn’t it.
I don’t mince words any more Mr. Secretary, don’t shield people from the horror, especially not people who can do something constructive. It’s been ten years and I’ve had plenty of hand holding comfort. I don’t need more of that.
Four thousand people die in truck related crashes every year. Not all of them are the fault of the truck driver. But there are many tired and distracted semi drivers on the roads because the laws let them drive more hours than are safely possible and because many companies push their drivers to do even more. Most of these people die as individuals, in crashes that don’t gain press. They die one by one, two by two, across the country and no one pays attention.
Except the families. Sixty-three year old Walter Manz, who died this week in a crash that sounds just like my dad’s, won’t be remembered by the President or his Governor, or even his local Mayor. He won’t make the CNN news loop, his family won’t be interviewed by Anderson Cooper. He’s just one more person lost for no reason.
But his family will be forever changed.
So while we appreciate you meeting with us and listening to our stories here’s what we really need Mr. Secretary. We need more than warm support and kind words. We need more than hugs and tears.
We need you to stand up for safety.
Stand up and work with us to make the transportation industry safer for all of us. Not just the folks in the four wheel vehicles, but for the professional drivers as well. Because for every family that is devastated by the loss of loved ones there’s a driver that is emotionally devastated as well.
We can make a difference. We can make the roads safer. We just need everyone, and especially you Mr. Secretary, to work together toward a mutually satisfying compromise that will save lives. Make safety your legacy. Be remembered as the Secretary that put safety first.
Safety over profits. Has a sort of ring to it doesn’t it.
Thank you for listening.
Sincerely,
Dawn Badger King
Bill Badger’s daughter.
Forever.
Daddy and me
Ephemeral – the one I didn’t use
In the 1980’s I traveled with my folks through the Southwest. We visited a number of national parks and monuments but at Canyon De Chey my mom purchased a refrigerator magnet, reproduced Indian petroglyphs, painted on a bit of flat brown stone. It stayed on her fridge for years as a reminder of our trip together.
After she died unexpectedly in 2004 someone in their church gave my grief stricken dad a small prism which he placed on the windowsill above the kitchen sink. When the sun shines at a certain angle a rainbow plays across the kitchen.
Now, with both of them gone, we find comfort in that rainbow when it glows in mom’s kitchen. And sometimes dad’s rainbow falls for a few brief moments on mom’s magnet, reminding us that life itself is ephemeral at best.
I wrote the above thinking I’d use it for the ephemeral photo challenge. Then I realized the photo was very much like to original challenge photo and I always like to do something different. I’m not even sure I took this photo, I think perhaps husband did on one of his trips to Alabama.
So I didn’t use it. But I like the photograph and the thoughts behind it, so I’m sharing it with you anyway.
Life is ephemeral. Now go hug someone you love.
A walk in the woods honoring our friend Norwood
Katie here. I want to tell you about a very special dog named Norwood. Every morning he and his mom went out for a run or a walk, and they posted the weather report from their hometown and a picture of Norwood being…well…Norwood. No matter what kind of mood my mama was in, Norwood always made her feel good. He had lots of special skills and one of them was making people smile.
Norwood makes a snow angel.
My mama and lots of other people called him Dude for short because he was such a goofy guy. And fun. And very very happy.
Tragically he had to go to the Rainbow Bridge last week, way before his time. It wasn’t anything anyone expected, least of all his mom, and now people all over the world are all weepy eyed. Mom cried all day at work on Thursday; she just told people she had a cold, cause how can you explain crying over a dog you’ve never met? But that’s Dude for you, brightening everybody’s life every morning and leaving a big gaping hole now that he’s gone.
Norwood and his mom ran trails in the woods. In the winter his mom wore snowshoes and the Dude wore his boots. He loved loved loved running in the woods. So after he had to go his mom asked us all to take a walk in the woods to honor Norwood.
He loved to run with his mom Debi.
And yesterday that’s just what my mama and I did. It was a beautiful warm sunny winter day with blue skies and white snow. Norwood would have loved it. We walked along a packed trail between the towering trees listening to the silence. And we thought of Dude and how he’d be running back and forth ahead of us, just grinning like everything. I didn’t once pull any of my princess tricks, we walked in respectful silence most of the time, and just enjoyed being together. I even did my special running recall in honor of the Dude. And because my mama had treats.
Here I come mama!
Mama says we’re glad we went out to the woods to think about Norwood. He will always be a very special dog and we aren’t ever going to forget him. We won’t forget his goofy grin, and his multi colored boots or his florescent collar. We won’t forget how he loved to go on adventures and how much he loved his mom. And we won’t ever forget how lucky we were to know him just a little, here on the internet. We know we didn’t know him as well as some people that got to meet him in person, and certainly not as well as Debi, his mom, but still weren’t we lucky to enjoy him while we could. My mama’s heart is breaking for Norwood’s mom and all his special friends. I know when it’s my time to go to the bridge he’ll be one of the first dogs I’ll look for, cause he’s just so much fun.
Until then I will think of the Dude every time my mama and I take a walk in the woods. Right now I gotta go comfort my mama. She’s getting all weepy eyed again. The Dude can do that to a mama. Anyway, don’t worry about your mom Norwood, everybody’s sending her lots of hugs. We’ll look out for her, just like you did. You run free Dude.
Man, we’re going to miss you.
Portrait of the Dude.
PS: The pictures of Norwood were taken by his mom, Debi Horvath.
Change Is Hard 