How many times have I heard it? A thousand? Yes, at least a thousand. All I know for sure is it’s too many times to count. At least for me with everything I have going on. What, you ask, am I referring? Let me tell you.
“The Diviney family is a constant reminder that…”
Here is where you can finish the statement.
Probably the most used ending to this is “… life can change in the blink of an eye”. Sure, there are many variations of this, but it all comes back to the same premise. When I speak of variations, I mean statements like “…today should be taken for granted, because tomorrow is no guarantee”. You get the idea, right?
You should know that I hate being a constant reminder. It bothers me that this has become my identity. Aside from, perhaps, my birthday, I’d rather not even be an occasional reminder. I want to be just like most everyone else. To be reminded of me for whatever reason other than “the blink of an eye”. The possibilities are endless in ways. I could be the guy who was good at sports in his younger days… or the dad who never missed his child’s events… or the professional who is good at his job… or the neighbor who has an enormous dandelion problem with his lawn. Anything, really. Anything but this. I’d rather I reminded you of nothing.
At least nothing in particular. Nothing that really matters.
With that said, you should also know that I willingly accepted my role as a constant reminder; my hatred of such be damned! I’m like a God forsaken snooze-alarm that won’t be silenced. I’m the almost-dead smoke detector that just keeps chirping. I just keep poking at people, gently reminding them to pay attention.
Let’s face it, had I not, then how many would have learned of my son… let alone remember him? How about all those who remembered his attack (i.e., “I remember seeing this on TV when it happened”) but not make the connection until months or years later?
As painful as it is for me, I opened our lives for all to see. I hold very little back.
Yes, by doing so it serves as a reminder to you that this life… this day… this very minute… is precious. It must not be squandered or taken for granted. There is no assurance that the next will be the same, or better, or there at all.
My inspiration for today’s post came from a piece where Ryan — and my family — loom large in the story. It’s a touching article, written by long time follower Lorraine Lundqvist, that certainly should be read.
Here is an excerpt from it:
Ryan Diviney lives in our town. He went to our schools, attended our college, knew our friends. His mother had parent-teacher conferences with our teachers. Ken cheered Ryan on at sporting events that we attended or attend today. They barbecued with friends, laughed over a beer or two, spoke with pride about their children and life was normal. Ken and Sue rejoiced in the life they built together, the pride they felt in their children and life was good, lIfe was happy.
And then, in the blink of an eye normalcy was taken away.
The title is, appropriately, In the Blink of an Eye on the website Blogging Midlife.