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Today, I went to the funeral of a fun, rambunctious, sunshine of a 5 year old boy, named Carson.
Carson loved trucks, sports, jeeps, going fast, and laughing. He learned to ride a bike before his 3rd birthday, and was one tough little cookie. He had courage… Carson Courage. He lived life to the fullest, tried everything, and gave his whole heart to all he did.
My darling friend lost her special boy in a freak accident involving a 100 year old headstone in a cemetery last week. He died trying to make another little boy smile, while his dad was trying to take family pictures for some friends. Hilary and her family have been constantly on my mind this week, as we have all been reminded how truly fragile life really is.
This morning, at dawn, the neighbors of this sweet friend lined up every bike they could find in front of little Carson’s home. Each of the nearly 100 bicycles had a balloon tied to the handlebar with a message to Carson from each of the neighborhood children written on the outside. When the Cheney’s woke up, they looked outside and we’re surrounded by love. Then, those little children released their balloons and sent their messages to their friend in Heaven.
At the funeral, I was amazed at how many people were there to show respect for Carson, but even more, to support and show love for my friend and her family. The line into the viewing wrapped all the way around the church and out the door. I was amazed again, when the EMT’s and police officers that had taken care of my friends at the accident scene, came in full dress uniform to support and encourage this little family. They sat in the back of the room, and brought with them a wonderful feeling of peace. As I looked around and saw that packed church house, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed with emotion. As rotten as this world is, there are still so many wonderful, caring, loving, compassionate, GOOD people who lift up hands that hang down, comfort those who need comfort, and who daily ask themselves, “What have I done for someone today?”
I was truly proud of my fellow man.
When I arrived home this afternoon, my friend’s lovely, tired, tear-stained face has been ever present in my mind. I spent the afternoon and evening playing with my children, reading them books, and holding their hands.
I don’t know if I will ever take for granted the opportunity I have to kiss a sticky face again.
Instead of sweeping the floor and doing the laundry, I cuddled with my 2 year old. I apologized to Lou for yelling at her this morning. I sat for an hour with Miss June on my lap as she “read” to me The Tale of Peter Rabbit.
Because I can…and my dear friend can’t.
When I see a bicycle, I will ever be reminded that somewhere in Heaven there is a little boy watching over his mother. A mother that would give anything to hold him once again. And, I believe with every fiber of my being that she will. But, for here and now, I will hold my little ones a little longer just for her.
Because they truly are what matters most.
Tonight, as you get ready for bed, say a prayer for someone other than yourself. Kiss your sleeping teenager’s forehead. Don’t cuss at the jam trickling down the kitchen wall. Tuck the blanket up around your little one’s shoulders. Think of something you could do for that person you have been thinking of. And, then fall asleep holding hands with your sweetheart, even though he left the toilet seat up and you fell in again.
Life is fragile but, LOVE lasts forever.