An Act of Kindness: 25 years later

 

Late in my 5th grade school year I developed chicken pox and had to remain home during the last week of school.  My dear friends surprised me with the amazing creation you see posted above.  A hand-made "Get Well Soon" card signed by my friends, classmates and teachers.  Twenty-five years later I still smile broadly when I think of how thoughtful of a gift that was.

I was fortunate to grow up in a suburban neighborhood where there were a good number of kids my own age.  We formed our friendships early on and grew to include new members, when applicable.  We were a diverse group, of various family structure backgrounds and personality types.  Our differences made our friendships unique; both individually and as a group. 

We spent our time after school and before bedtime riding our bikes at the school or in the woods at the "dead end".  Imagination was our best friend, in a time when we were more excited to play Barbies, create scenarios and pretend.  Who needed video games?  We made our own fun!

The friendships formed during those years made my childhood full of laughter, unconditional support and understanding.  My life was full.  As we grew we ventured down different paths and thanks to the social media age we've been able to reconnect.  I am incredibly honored to have had such wonderful friends during my childhood and hope that their children are just as fortunate!

Choose to heal

"So that a tragedy like this never happens again."

How many times have we heard this declaration?  And yet tragedies continue.  They will until we address the problem on a deeper level.

As much as I abhor guns and violence of any kind I can not pull all the blame on those issues.  And trust me, I want to. Because that would make it easier.  Would mean we'd have someone or something else to blame.  We'd have an outlet to voice our concerns, frustrations, anger and deep sadness.  But we'd be neglecting an even more important and critical part of the problems - our actions.

Choice.  Every single moment of every single day we get to to choose.  Whether the choice is what to wear that day or deciding to enact your rage with violence we still get to choose.  And because we have that ability we also have the responsibility, to not only our community but ourselves, to make the choice that's rooted in unwavering love and respect.

You're in pain.  You're angry.  You're fed up with being mistreated.  You're tired of being ignored.  Fine, I get that.  I can understand your pain.  I hurt for you.  But you still have a choice to make.  AS someone who battled a form of mental illness I felt pain.  I felt alone.  I felt unheard.  But I CHOOSE to channel those feelings through art.  I took pencil to notebook and wrote feverishly of all that I couldn't vocalize.  I listened to inspiring and motivating songs and sang along in my bedroom and with the windows down in my car.  I found outlets that helped me express my issues in a constructive and creative manner.

We're all dealing with pain on some level.  Sometimes it's so debilitating that you just want others to understand.  Truly understand.  But choosing to bring harm to another living being does irreparable damage to so many others, yourself included.  You have a choice each and every moment.  Choose respect for all living beings.  Choose respect for yourself.  Move us all forward instead of taking the choice away from us.