JUST ANOTHER DAY...BUT NOT, REALLY

     Today, one week away from another year. Will the six year mark be harder, easier, or different in some measurable way from the last five death-iversary dates? Perhaps I will be swooped by hawks, covered in double rainbows, swarmed by beautiful butterflies, and see #34 in new and unusual places. Perhaps there will be none of those things, but Robbie will still be with me despite being gone.


     Recently at Mason's Spring Fling, I was moving past a table when I noticed my novel, They Said She Was Crazy, on a table next to a sign that said 'Books that I Recommend.' Obviously, I stopped, commented, and took a picture. 'ORACLE' the booth stated, and when I looked closer noticed a woman in the midst of reading another woman's cards. She was familiar, but not well known to me.
     As my brain searched for the connection, she looked up, smiled at me and said:

"Oh! You! I knew I was going to see you here today! Robbie told me I would be talking to you."

     Yep. 'Robbie said'. And there I was; crying, my amazing husband leading me to sit in a chair and wait to speak to BeBe. What she told me was nothing I didn't already know, but such a welcome and unexpected reminder of how much my son connects with people here in my small town.


     
     Over the last two weeks I have unexpectedly and rather miraculously run into many numerous former students, received surprising emails from strangers, and had the honor of speaking to teens about the power of our stories. Again, I'm sure these meetings are my sweet boy, making sure I'm okay, that I am reminded in this most anxious time of the year for me, that my emotions are not wasted, that we all matter in this chain of love and life.

     Remember, that your words have the power to change the world...whether it's one person's world, your community's, or a nation's. Be kind. Notice. Interact. Challenge depression. Engage. We can never know what others are carrying. Let your words be the difference. 














Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

It's Just a Blue Hat

Image
...BUT IT IS SO MUCH MORE! It's Robbie's blue hat, one of the few things I have of his. I wear it, and feel him with me when I need it most. I feel him watching over me, especially when I need it most. This morning, I readied to go out for chores, grabbed my quilted flannel shirt off the hook, and reached for the blue hat. I always hang it on the hook above the flannel. I grabbed for it without having to look, but no hat. Slight moment of panic, but this has happened before. It is exactly why I now ALWAYS hang it on the hook. Deep breath. Calm yourself, Kristine. My hand reaches into the deep front pocket of the flannel (second storage spot). Nothing. The other pocket is searched. Nada. Panic. "I can't find my blue hat!" Chad turns from where he is standing in the kitchen. He knows it is more than a knit cap that keeps my head warm in winter.  Frantic, I rush into our coatroom, searching the cubbies, the hanging jackets and coats, their pockets, even though I know
Read more

ONLY ONE MORE DAY

Image
     It's only one more day. One more day without him. One more day without his smile, his laughter, his dirty socks in the couch cushions, empty Dorito bags in the bathroom (yes, the bathroom).      Eight years ago my world was changed for all eternity. My sweet son, Robbie, gone.      I remember the moment I knew something was wrong. It was in the air as I walked up the steps. It was goosebumps on my skin as I stood in the doorway. There are so many things I remember but don't want to, and so many things I don't that I wish I could have back.      So now I have a new normal. Dreams sometimes bless me with his presence, younger or 16 year old versions, but never older. Last night I cried while watching a show, flashing ahead to future views of the characters' lives, children, laughter, playing, together. I will never know what he could have become. I will never hold his babies in my arms, snuggle them, kiss away their boo-boos.          In the week leading up t
Read more

Letting that Sh*t GO!

Image
Recently, a number of friends reached out to share a post written by a former friend and business acquaintance. Each person who brought it to my attention did so with the best of intentions. They were angry for me, wanting to protect me, and hoping to keep me aware in case of future, well, attacks is the best way to phrase it. Their love and caring was much appreciated. I should have simply left it there, but I made the mistake of reading the post anyway. As I read, my muscle memory brought me back into the feelings of sadness, betrayal, and disappointment that ultimately led me to disassociate from the author of the post. It would have been incredibly easy to fall back into a pit of negativity, to feed the desire to defend myself, or follow the urge to point out the falsehoods being revived. For a few minutes, I'll admit, these were all pulling my fingers toward the keys; but, as my heart raced and my blood pressure rose, I paused. Responding was not going to resolve the break or
Read more