I have read a lot of heartbreaking blogs lately. Like... a lot. They have all been about the deaths of children, which is a kind of pain I hope to never know.
Something really selfish occurred to me though, that I am sure occurs to others. When we read such stories, even though we hurt for them [which is never even comparable to the parents pain] and sometimes even cry as we read them [I can admit it.] there is a little tiny part of us that is actually happy. Not happy that it happened... of course not... but happy that it
wasn't us.
I think sometimes I have this crazy way of rationalizing tragedies as though there are a limited number of them, which is not true of course. But I feel like as things happen in the lives of others, it is always a lesson to cherish the moments we have, take extra precautions as necessary, and to be thankful that,
this time, it wasn't us.
How incredibly selfish is that? When I really think about it, it makes me feel like an awful person. How can I be glad someone lost their child? In reality though, that is not it. It is NOT that I am happy they lost their child... that could not be further from the truth!! Part of me is just relieved that it was not MY child, nor MY story. I don't think that is too uncommon. Is it??
The idea of 'it could never happen to me' is something I link to high school health class when we talked about STDs and getting pregnant. Then I realize... hmm. I got pregnant in April of my senior year. It CAN happen to me. It did. That was one that I can say I am thankful for though :)
I know I am not invincible. Neither is my family. I just have a really hard time accepting the fact that there are things [people, situations, events] that I just can't protect my children from. I want to pull them in close and never let them venture out into the harsh, unforgiving world... but I know I can't. Unless I build some crazy bunker on an island like in Lost... now there is a thought :))
As a mom, my heart just shatters to hear stories of someone loosing their child [of all ages]. It is so hard to not just pull out of the world all together sometimes. But also as a mom, I am learning that I am not the perfect parent. I will make mistakes, have regrets and wish I could go back in time... but I am always given opportunities to be shown that I still have time. Right now. To make their lives exactly what it should be... my life has always been lived for someone else. Never for me. That's kind of hard to swallow. There are times when I just want to cut the bindings. Be free for a little while. But what would I be missing?
Too much.
Everything.
Everyone needs a little freedom, no question. I love my 'me' time. But not as much as I love looking over and seeing my baby girl snuggling with her daddy on the couch. Or as much as I love my son waltzing into my bedroom and asking me about what I did at work today. Or as much as phone calls from my oldest [even though they are just as heartbreaking] telling me how much he misses me.
I would give up e v e r y t h i n g for them. Freedom, happiness, parties, sunshine... anything.
The best part is... they aren't asking me to.
I have these amazing little people in my life that I could not imagine them NOT being in my life. So when I am forced to consider the idea that something could happen to them that I cannot control... it devastates me. When bad things happen, I will always have that little part being just slightly thankful it wasn't us. I am human.