I just finished reading a short story about a boy who didn’t listen, ran wild, was stubborn, definitely was not quiet, and who was this person’s son. Can you say “hammer, nail, head?” That is what it was like. He wasn’t perfect, but he was mine! None of us are perfect, but those imperfections are missed just as much as the things he did right.
As summer progresses, I hear the loud trucks passing the house. I pray for each one just in case they have ideas that aren’t the best for them, but makes them happy. I never want to deprive a person of fun, but until my last breath, I will do what I can to help them avoid putting their loved ones through hell when it could have been avoided. This is my mission in life now. I won’t apologize for it. An example—he was my son!
In a world where it seems that the only goal people have is to make every other person agree with them, this is one situation I would push on that agenda. Don’t drink and drive. There are too many options available for those who need a ride. Pride should not be a consideration in this scenario and, unfortunately, I think it plays too big of a role. My son is included in that scenario!
Good people can make bad decisions. I see it in the headlines daily these days. I know I am not the first one who has said “what the hell are they thinking?” All choices and decisions have a domino effect on others. We all need to think through situations. Very seldom is a decision one-sided. Don’t ever assume otherwise. Just as my son probably never thought about all the people who got caught and were forever changed by his one decision. But he was still my son.
I am not a mover and a shaker, but I want everyone to know their life has value. The more I do the presentation to others about what happened to my son, the more I find out how alone people think they are. They are not! We are all someone’s son or daughter. Even if those parents are not here on this Earth! And all of us are more than a bad decision. My son had a life that was more than just drinking and driving on one fatal night, he was my son!
I miss my son every single day. Every day something happens I wish he were here for me to talk to about: good, bad, or indifferent. He was wild. He was bull-headed. He was fun. He loved trucks. He loved mud. He loved music. He loved life. He was my son.
I am not sure where I was headed with this post, other than no one is an island. Someone out there loves you. Someone out there cares more than you will ever know. Do the right thing. Doesn’t mean it is the easy thing. It is ok to want to have fun, be wild and crazy, drink a bit, but have a plan. And for those who love you, we will continue to do so. I want all those who like to “enjoy a drink” to hug your designated drivers instead of thinking they are a stick in the mud for not drinking. I think they should wear capes and be hailed heroes!
As summer nights get rowdy and bonfires glow bright, give your keys to someone before you get started. Let your loved ones waiting know where you are and that you are safe. If my son were to walk in the door right now, I’d hug him and probably smack him at the same time. We get over being mad. I can’t get over his death, only through it with the help of others. I miss him. I am mad at him. I am also sad for all those who lost him as well. Like me, I am sure they cry because he is gone, but smile because he was here.
#forever24 #designateddriversareheroes #gonebutnotforgotten #thedashinthemiddle