Today, I intended to write through my concerns about the diminishment of parental control, though not parental responsibility, with their own children. About what kids are being taught–and not being taught. Thinking about the Berkley students who seemed to have challenges naming a president (Abraham Lincoln aside) and naming Benjamin Franklin as a favorite president, when he never held the office.
I intended to write that elementary school kids don’t need to be taught in school matters of sexual orientation (the substantiating evidence that it’s to diminish bullying holds no truth since there isn’t a recorded case in the country on it having occurred in kids that age) and instead teaching kids respect period.
But I can’t do it. Not today. My heart isn’t in it. And it’s important and deserves my best.
This has been a really rough morning. A good friend’s daughter is fighting for her life after a tragic accident. And a friend of over twenty years has passed away.
So instead I’m writing about giving this season its due. The woman who passed is a Christian. I know she’s okay now. But I will miss her. And because I will, I’m mourning and reliving all the special moments we shared. There were many, and that’s normal in a longtime friendship.
It doesn’t touch on the moments. The ones laughing, crying, paying homage to those we loved who have left us. It doesn’t count the hours and hours of discussions on what is, was, our hopes and dreams for what could be.
We shared many moments of life, death and the universe talks. We were open and honest and at times agreed to disagree. We stood together, fought together, mourned together. Supported each other through hard times, celebrated with each other through good times. We shared our lives.
And that’s the point of this message.
As bad as losing a dear friend hurts, it is a blessing. We shared our lives, and mine was richer for it. I pray that’s true for my friend as well.