In life, lots of
little moments go into making the big ones.
Dark chocolate can best be described
as mildly bittersweet. Subsequently, this time of the year leaves me
feeling that way. The reason is my oldest daughter, Alisha Erin, would have
been twenty one yesterday on April 24th, except for the fact that she
changed her permanent address to heaven when she was seven.
Awkward, painful, and difficult used
to sum up how I felt at this time of the year. However, yesterday morning
I found myself eating a Hershey’s special dark chocolate bar at 7a.m. feeling
mildly bittersweet. Whenever you lose a child and their birthday rolls around
you feel it. Try as you may, you feel it, coming and going. April 24th
is that way for me, although in the past few years I have found that the pain
is fading.
This year I found myself pleasantly reminded
of a story about my daughter, Alisha. A month before she died she was
playing in a youth basketball league at the YMCA. She loved to
play, but it was not her sport. The closest she came to scoring was when she
hit the rim, and then I believe the ball hit her in the face. She had no clue,
but loved doing her own thing.. Yet she would run around proudly with her gray
t-shirt on with the number 4 on the back.
So, the next year when I came back
to coach my son’s team I got into a conversation with another coach and my
daughter came up in conversation. I mentioned her death and he extended
his sympathies and then asked what she liked best about basketball? He
interjected, was it the rules or running the plays? No, I responded, “it
was the t-shirt.” In hindsight I believe she just wanted to belong. Her
brother had a shirt when he played and she wanted one, too.
I believe Alisha’s basketball t-shirt
made her feel good about being part of something. I can still see her in my mind’s eye with her
brilliant blue eyes and long flowing brown hair with her deep raspy voice
giggling, as she ran up and down the court with her sneakers flashing red
lights with each step. Alisha Erin had no five year plan or long term agenda
in mind; she was simply just living life.
It’s crazy, but so many times we
don’t live our life like someone who is enjoying the moment. I know I
have spent too much time yelling and taking life too seriously. However,
as mildly bittersweet as the t –shirt story is, it reminds me that Alisha lived
her life like a washrag, and that she wrung every last drop out of it.
May we all do the same?
It is good to enjoy
this life, like your favorite t-shirt knowing that someday it will wear it.
Swavel
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