Barry and I were both 17 when we met. We had just finished high school. I was dealing with my tragedy -- the death of my mother and two younger sisters. Barry was an orphan, responsible for his older brother with special needs. And there we stood, in the "Land of Oz" at the start of the "Yellow Brick Road" -- the beginning of our journey together.
I learned early on when I was coping with my baby's death -- and again after my husband died -- that I had to be very specific about what I did or did not need from those around me. I used to be a shy person.. As I was working through my grief process, however, I started to see that a new, bolder side of my personality was begging to come out.
A hectic day left me feeling pretty cranky by the time lunch was over. There was a rush out the door taking us to the local rink. When our troupe got there, something magic came over me. I remembered what it felt like again to walk in the snow toward the monkey bars. Then I realize -- each day, from start to finish is a gift.
In wake of the recent tragedy in Newtown, Connecticut, there have been waves of anger and sorrow washing over us all. Young and old. Rich and poor. Believer and non-believer. Recently, I came across the 26 Moments That Restored Our Faith in Humanity This Year article that has been floating around the Internet. When the world over finds itself in bleak mid-winter, the sun comes out and shines across the shadows.
Shock, disbelief and tears have flooded us, after the Newtown, Connecticut slaying of 20 primary school children aged 5-10 years old. Although it's easy to be blindsided by the heinous crime that took place, let's ask ourselves if the same could happen at our child's school -- and what steps can be taken to prevent a similar tragedy?