I was just thinking...

Name:

I've become addicted to "A"s (I've gone back to college), love eating and cooking everything but goat cheese, I always try to please everyone and laugh without wetting myself or snorting. I love reading and keeping up with current events, I value my friends. And most especially, I'm a proud mother of four and an excessively proud grandmother of five.

Friday, November 09, 2007

...life goes on...

Well, Steven's body was laid to rest on the Thursday following his death. October 25th was a rainy, windy, dreary day. It matched the mood of everyone attending the funeral. I was pleasantly surprised to see so many people celebrating Steven's life. It broke my heart to see these kids crying and hanging on to each other for support. I thought, "Good...something good will come of this. Maybe these kids will take life more seriously. Maybe they will realize how it can come to a crashing end in the blink of an eye. Maybe they will each choose to rededicate their lives, and make some sort of commitment to do something positive in memory of their friend who will never have the opportunity to realize his own dreams." Twenty days have come and gone since Steven's life ended, and from the look of things, nothing has changed. Sure it has changed for Steven's family who have to live each day knowing that their son lies alone in the cold, cold ground...and for the parents of Steven's friends, like me, who wonder how their children can be grief-stricken and inconsolable one minute, and partying on, the next.

I think back to the day that my friend Bill McCue died from injuries he suffered in Viet Nam so very, very many years ago. My life has gone on, but scarcely a day has gone by in 40 years that I haven't thought about how much he is missed, and how sad it is that his death was for nothing. We kissed and made up with Viet Nam. And Bill McCue's name is forever etched on the Viet Nam memorial and in my heart. I think of the soldiers who are dying in Iraq for frigging nothing, whose images and assigned number (of soldiers killed...is it up to 3,900 yet?) are commemorated on TV and are remembered as "No, not another one" in our thoughts. Maybe it is easier to be a teenager, when life holds so many possibilities, when sadness can keep you down for only so long -- than to be an aging mom who is becoming more and more aware of the brevity and fragility of life.