Bad Day Defined

After stewing in my disappointment about Obama's victory I was about to do a blog about how ugly Michelle Obama's dress was last night during his acceptance speech. I mean the dress was just screaming "Instantly slims you 10 pounds." As if our eyes were going to be drawn to the red splotchy inset instead of the wide black side panels trying to hide her over-sized hips. Had she truly been convinced her husband was going to win, perhaps she should have gone on a diet to lose ten pounds instead of buying a horrid dress to do the job. He has been way up in the polls for over a month. That is enough time to take care that fashion problem. As I was trying to figure out how to get her picture on my blog I found out that many other people felt the same way about the future first lady's style and have written extensively about it, so I am freed up to help all of my fellow Republicans put this into perspective.

Tonight I went to a visitation. Our Elementary Principal's baby daughter died this weekend from SIDS. I think she was about 4 months old. I looked at the collage someone had put together and there was little Emily dressed up as a Tootsie Roll for Halloween. From what I understand, she had been put down for a nap on Saturday night and she never woke up.

Jennifer is a pretty popular principal with a lot of friends and connections. I could hardly find a parking space at the mortuary. The flowers were beautiful. Emily was beautiful, but this was really sad. Jennifer is really holding up well considering the circumstances.

I wish I could throw her a lifeline and tell her that the road ahead is not going to be tough but that would be a lie. I can only welcome her to the club. This is how parents who have lost a child define the special bond we have with other people who have lost children. It is a fraternity that no one wants to join because the initiation fee is way too high. But once you are in, you have some friends who can really help you like no one else because they have been through it before.

I don't know of any other group of people who could understand why I didn't wear a seat belt for two years after Matthew died. I purposely did not put one on because I figured if I were to get in a wreck or hit by a drunk driver, I wanted the result to be big. It is not as if I was purposely trying to end my life, its just that I was not going to let an opportunity to pass to the other side slip by because of a mere safety precaution. See, I told you that only club members would get this.

Another characteristic of club members is that we don't feel that our families are in that protective bubble. When someone is late and I don't hear from them I automatically assume they have been killed in a car crash. This was a pretty tough road for the teen drivers in our family. As a matter of fact, when Megan was a senior she was in a car that was totalled by one of her friends. As the crash was occurring the last thought going through her mind was, "Mom, is going to be so mad about this." Fortunately, everyone walked away from the wreck. I was feeling guilty about making my kids feel guilty about dying. But then I came to the conclusion that I truly felt this way and I couldn't apologize for that.

I was telling a non-club member about how I try to live my life with no regrets. I realize that every time I kiss my husband or children goodbye it might be for the last time. She tried to see my point but told me that it would be impossible to live life that way without faith in the future. I tried to see her point, but as a club member I have left the Garden of Eden. I know by personal experience that my family is not exempt from death.

One of the best lessons I have learned from all of this is the definition of a Bad Day. A bad day is when your child dies or you have to go to your kid's funeral or viewing. I haven't had a bad day since May of 1996. Every other problem pales in comparison to a truly bad day. I love mundane days. I am grateful every time we get back from a road-trip and nothing major happened. I can tolerate failure and disappointments because its not the end of the world. As long as my kids are here there is hope for the future. Occasionally, I break through and everything works according to plan. When this happens I am having a good day. And rarely, life goes better than expected. Maybe this is the definition of a beautiful day.