Happy Birthday Angel

Bobby would have been 19 this year. It's hard to believe that the last birthday wish I will ever give him was a "happy sweet 16" to which he replied, "those are for girls!"

This year, Luke and I made a plan. We would celebrate Bobby's birthday by doing things he loved.

We started our day at my parents house where we barbecued some ribs, it wasn't even noon yet. Bobby was a self-proclaimed carnivore- it just made sense.

Then we made our way to Wahooz with dad, where the three of us waited in line with a bunch of 12-year-olds to play laser tag. After our glorious red team victory, we made our way to the Go-Karts for a few laps of "let's all pass Kayla." We had a blast, which is exactly what Bobby would have wanted. We walked out of there laughing, sighing and already reminiscing.

After our morning of goofing off, we headed home to pick up mom. We decided that Bobby would request his favorite meal on his birthday, so we made our way to Smoky Mountain Pizza for way too much teriyaki chicken fettuccine with a side of meat lovers pizza. How did this kid eat so much while somehow maintaining his notorious abs? Not fair.

Our next stop was the Nike store. If you knew Bobby, you'd know that his closet was a whole lot of Nike attire in every color. We were all sporting our Nike t-shirts on our way to the IMAX theater to see the Avengers. I know he must have loved this part of our day.

Once the movie was out (and mom woke up from her not so sneaky IMAX glasses nap) we drove home in Bobby's car blaring music the whole way there.

We ended Bobby's birthday with a little tradition we've started since September 2012. We climbed a ladder onto the roof of the home we all grew up in, and we lit 4 lanterns sending them off one by one until they were tiny flecks of light. These were Bobby's birthday candles sent with a tremendous amount of love. Happy birthday sweet boy, we will celebrate your life every day until we see you again.

How the Holidays Changed For Me After My Loved One Passed Away

I've come across another seemingly relatable article written by a sister experiencing the same heartache. This article gives a glimpse into what the holidays are like for families who are no longer whole. Please keep us all in your thoughts and prayers as we are making our way through the many types of holiday emotions.


How the Holidays Changed For Me After My Loved One Passed Away 

by Kaya Adler

It’s already the middle of December. Christmas music is everywhere, Santa Claus is in the mall and I am trying to use every ounce of energy to be strong this holiday season.

A couple of years ago, I would have been the one buying presents and skipping around Toronto at the sight of snow. But, after losing someone very important to me, the whole concept of the holidays has changed.

What once was a time of family and togetherness is now a time when emotions run high and the feeling of loss is more prominent than ever.

In April of 2012, my brother passed away in a motorcycle accident. I remember getting the phone call from my dad when it happened. Immediately, my world came crashing down.

All I remember is, in that moment, I felt paralyzed. I just sat still for a very long time, trying to comprehend how I could ever move forward without my best friend.

Since having lost my brother, I dread the holidays. I feel anxious knowing that at any moment, I could burst into tears. I look around and see so many happy families and think about the way things should be.

I sometimes find my mind drifting and thinking about what I will get him for Christmas, but then, I snap back to reality and remember he is no longer here.

During my brother’s last few years, he and I were in college in different countries. We spoke often; he talked to me about his golf team and asked me for relationship advice.

He always told me how much I meant to him. I always admired how loving he was.

Though for many years we lived apart, one thing remained the same: Every Christmas, we came home. We came back to the home in which we grew up, and it was like we never left.

My brother, sister and I laughed about our Christmas memories; how every year, we managed to find my mom’s not-so-clever hiding spot for our gifts and how she threatened to return everything. We listened to Christmas music, watched “Elf” and spent as much time together as possible.

My brother loved Christmas. Ever since he was little, he had the best Christmas spirit. Every year on Christmas Day, he woke us up early in the morning so we could open presents. As he got older, he became the ultimate gift giver and put so much time and energy into his gifts, just so he could see our reactions.

As my family and I approached our first Christmas without him, we all sat down and discussed how we wanted to spend the holidays. It just didn’t feel right for us to celebrate Christmas without him, so that year, we didn’t. We spent it like any other day in the comfort of each other’s company.

Our second Christmas without him wasn’t any easier, but we got stronger, individually and as a family. I added back a few traditions, like the annual secret Santa gift exchange with my best friends and a Christmas Eve yoga class.

It doesn’t seem like much, but in my mind, it is. I even bought a gift for my boyfriend at the time and put the same amount of love and effort into it as my brother would put into mine.

After spending two Christmases without him, I have learned a few things that help me cope and that I will take forward with me this year.

I’ve learned it is important to put myself first and that what helps me may not help other members of my family. I find peace in writing about my brother; whereas, my mom likes to talk about him. I sometimes listen, but am not ready to openly talk about my memories with him yet.

I’ve learned to be aware of my limits and to not put too much pressure on myself.

I’ve learned it’s okay for me not to be okay; this is isn’t something with which I was meant to be prepared to deal. I’ve learned I don’t need to fake a brave face, and even though I feel very alone, there are many people there for me if I need them.

The best way I’ve gotten through the holidays is thinking about how my brother would want me to be strong. I often think about if was reversed, if it was my accident; I would need him to be okay.

I keep his voice in the back of my mind, telling me to keep my head high, to lighten up and that it’s okay to be happy.

So, as I approach my third Christmas without my brother, though I miss him more than ever, I know I have to be strong. Although this is the hardest time of the year, I feel him all around me. And that is enough to get me through.

Here’s to all of our lost loved ones this holiday season.

September 9th

Today is a day full of every emotion. How quickly the last two years, the last seven HUNDRED and thirty days have gone. It's tough knowing that these two years are just the first of many more to come without Bobby.

I've had happy days remembering him and laughing through memories of fun times. I've had sad and dark days where nothing makes sense and all I want is to understand the 'why'. I've had angry days where I question the bigger plan and wish the past could somehow be altered. There have been countless ups and downs, tears, celebrations and quiet days.

If I could revisit life before September 9th, 2012 I would sit him down for the mushiest big sister speech he'd ever get- he would try stopping me the second it started, most definitely.

I would start by telling him I'm pleasantly surprised as to how cool he turned out. As our youngest sibling, we had our doubts. He survived the early years of pestering and pranking, he adapted to sarcasm and bribery, learned how to deal with a big sister... the one who learned how to love his friendship. My goodness, he was cool.

I would tell him how inspiring he is. How his intelligence, his physical talent, eager spirit and his lovable personality would take him far. He was so easy to be around, so goofy and full of smiles. When he wanted something, he was determined to get it one way or another. His morals and his outlook on life made me look up to him.

I would remind him that he and I got the good genes. He would come to agree that we are alike in so many ways. The organized/OCD siblings, the ones who hate being late, the ones with a sense of style, the two who know forgiveness and who wear their feelings on their sleeves.

Lastly, I would explain to him how much I love him. How being his big sister is such a blessing. Watching him grow up and being a part of his life was an adventure that I will never forget. I would make sure he knew how much he means to me, how I won't live a day without thinking about him and missing him.

I know that Bobby is here. He's here in many ways and often when I have no idea, I'm sure. I'd like to think he knew all of these things... that I did my duty as his big sister and showed him along the way.

 The last two years have been full of challenges, along with some pretty great accomplishments. "Doing it for Bobby" has really encouraged me to take risks, push myself and overcome some big obstacles. Life is precious and as we've learned it can be taken away in an instant. My life will continue to be full of adventure in Bobby's honor because at the end of the day, he's right there with me.

                             

       

                                      

Bittersweet Things You Learn When You Lose Someone You Love

The past few days have been hard on my heart. 

The heavy unexplainable feeling in my chest is difficult to describe. 

These days come and go, I try to appreciate them as they remind me that I have not and will not forget my brother. 

At times it seems as though I saw him just yesterday, yet the emptiness caused by his absence is always quick to follow. 

This morning I stumbled upon this beautifully written article. 

Each point is completely relate-able. 

There is a certain comfort in knowing that we are not alone in this, 

that others are surviving the same heartbreak every day. 

10 Bittersweet Things You Learn When You Lose Someone You Love

    Jessica Rose

I have written about loss a lot over the past few years, I suppose as a way to “cope” with some things I did not feel prepared to handle. Coping is a strange concept. I do not think you ever really get over it. I think you live with it, as best you can. Yes, I have gone on, I have done things; I get up and continue on every day since I refuse to just give up. You get used to it, you go on anyway, but you are different because of it. These are things I learned from losing people I love. I still say love, present tense. And how I changed, for better or worse.

1. You join the club.

When you have lost someone you love — I mean really, truly loved — you start to notice grief in other people. I know I did. Even something as simple as uttering the sentence that you lost your person, the reaction you get can tell so much. I can tell from how people respond and the look they get in their eyes if they have lost someone too. You start to recognize each other like you are part of some terrible club. If I had to put the look in their eyes into a word — even though there really isn't one — it would be tired. Grief can make you so terribly tired. You get so sick of there being so much gravity weighing down your heart. You get tired of waking up in the morning and realizing after a second that what ever happened to you wasn't a nightmare. Sometimes I’m still getting used to being this person who has this truth, who wishes she knew what to do to with it, who wishes she never had to join this not-so-exclusive club.

2. Sometimes bad things just happen.


Science tells us that human beings long to see patterns, to recognize and categorize all we come into contact with. We want to see these patterns so badly that we manufacture them, make up cause-effects, and assign links where none exist. There is not always a reason things happen, which is a fairly terrifying realization. Sometimes, they just do. I understand that a lot of people disagree with me on this. No one can ever convince me certain events happened for a reason. I can find meaning around the situation. How it made me stronger than I ever wanted to be. How it gave me courage. How some of my friendships were strengthened from it. Maybe those things are just my way of trying to force reason onto something unreasonable. But the actual event itself…I cannot find any meaning for it. It has just become this horrible thing I live with. And quite dreadfully, it is possible to live with horrible things. Divine or otherwise, I do not think anyone planned for things to be this way; I think sometimes things just are and you have to navigate the wreckage accordingly.

3. Life keeps happening even if you need time to grieve.

I could not think in years after I lost him. Seconds, moments, minutes I could handle. Anything beyond that I did not dare to think I could control. I could get through the moment I was in. Then that one would pass and another would come, and I would get through that moment too. For a long time my life passed in moments. Then suddenly, it was months later. It did not feel as though months had passed. I still felt the same: still ached, still could not sleep, still held back tears any time I wasn’t alone. The entire universe continued to operate on days, weeks, and months while I operated moment by moment. Time just changed for me. Now I see days and months and years again, when I am at my best. But there are still an egregious amount of days I am forced to live in moments.

I have to say I think it is cruel that the world does not stop when one needs time to grieve. No one teaches you how to lose someone. No one tells your friends and family how to help you through it. No one tells you the 5 stages of grief do not come in order, and they do not have a statue of limitations. Work still has to be done, deadlines still have to be met, and the universe does not care one bit that you are only a fraction of what you were. It is not easy, it is not fair, but it is true.

4. The 5 stages of grief do not happen chronologically.

A while back, a lady named Kubler-Ross came up with the idea that there are 5 stages of grief people experience after suffering a loss. These emotional stages include denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. Of course, how and when these stages hit is different for everyone. You may experience only one or all of those, as well as a hundred other possible feelings. I almost wish they each happened, and they happened in a specific order. That way I could wait for one to pass and check it off the list, inching ever closer to acceptance, never set back and always pushing forward. A linear timeline I could point to and say, “this is what I have to survive, this is all that is left to get through this.” As one of my favorite authors John Green has pointed out, the world is apparently not a wish-granting factory. These feelings do not happen in order and on a schedule, they wax and wane as they please. There is no time period after which you will no longer feel these things, no statue of limitations on mourning, no way to know when they’ll hit.

5. The bad days do not ever really go away, and that is okay.

There are days my lungs refuse to take in air. The alveoli protest, and the muscles refuse to expand and contract and relieve me. Days where I gasp and ache for air that only comes in short insufficient bursts. Days when breathing is no longer the autonomous, thoughtless process it should be. Days where I plead with my head and heart to stop thinking long enough for me to inhale, exhale, and repeat. Bad days happen no matter how long I have had to grieve and cope and process.
Some days like that are marked on the calendar — anniversaries, birthdays, holidays. Sometimes I can even plan around them. I have learned it is okay to make time to miss someone on those days. It is perfectly reasonable to take a step back and be sad, because it IS sad. Even if it happened a long time ago it still matters. If it did not matter it would not hurt in such an almighty manner. It is a blessing to know this pain, to have had someone who made saying good-bye so impossibly hard. As the Doctor once said, “The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant.”

6. People do not always know how to act around you.

The first time I lost someone who was truly important to me, people just looked at me with sad eyes. No one really said anything to me. A teacher might pat me on the shoulder in what I am sure was an attempt to be consoling, but just as no one teaches you how to get through it, no one teaches your friends and family how to help you through it, either. It is incredibly sucky to understand and accept that, but even the best-intentioned people may not know what to say to you.

7. The universe is not messing with you personally.

I know the world can treat you badly. It is hard and cold and it does not care about you personally. It is hard not to take it personally when bad things happen around you. I lost a few good friends in a short time span and I could not understand how one person could be expected to cope. In fact, I did not know how I could be expected to not become a basket case under the circumstances. I wanted to blame the universe for putting me in an impossible situation, but I realized the universe was not doing this to me personally. I do not believe the grand ever-expanding universe is concerned with the temporary speck of dust that is my life. If you are alive then live, and take solace in the fact that everyone has moments where it feels like the universe has a personal vendetta against him or her. The universe may be screwing you, but I do not think it is personal.

8. You are never ready for big changes, even if you think you are.

You may think you are ready for a big change but I do not think things hit you the exact way you expect — even if you have had time to prepare for it. When the big moments come, I do not think it is possible to prepare. In fact, I believe a lot of times the big moments are not planned; they happen in a second that was supposed to be normal. There is no big flash of light or warning sign to make it distinct from every other ordinary moment. Then the moment that should have been ordinary goes wrong, and you adapt as best you can.

9. You do not ever get to be the same again.

When we mourn, we often forget that we did not just lose them, we lost part of ourselves too. The person we could have been with them, and the future that we now don’t get the chance to have are gone. It is hard to be left behind, a part of you buried with them. Everything changes in an instant you cannot control, and you are left to deal with the aftermath. You change and you long to keep them alive. It is why I write about them, because it helps keep them alive and with me. Which I know may sound crazy, but I do not think it actually is.

I want to remember the people I love and I want to keep talking about them because staying silent about their lives seems worse than death. I know staying silent is how some people choose to deal with loss, and that is okay. Everyone deals with it differently, and there is no wrong way to do it. I could not stand to let death take away the good memories I have of someone or make the time I spent with them seem less important. Even too-short lives can be good lives. I choose to remember them because I know that when I grieve it is because I got to love someone, and nothing can make that weightless. I learned it is okay that you do not get to be the same, because I am forever grateful, blessed, and honored to have been part of their life. I would not change being someone who got to know that love to be someone who does not know grief — even though there are days where the pain was so great I thought it would kill me, and a few where I hoped it would.

10. You become thankful for the days you can think of them and smile.

When you first lose someone, it is hard to imagine that it will ever stop hurting or that you will ever survive it. Mostly what I have learned is it does not get better necessarily, it just gets….less. But it will hurt less, and it can survive be survived. As irreparably broken, gutted, hollow as one may feel, it does not kill you. Which is actually almost cruel. While it may feel as though a dementor has sucked every last hint of happiness from your chest, you will have days where you think of them and you do not cry. There will even be days you smile while you remember them. I have learned to be thankful for those days, which fend off despair like my personal little patronus charm. I know that is what they would want for me, and how they would want to be remembered — with love and joy instead of pain and tears. I do my best to honor their life and remember them, and while it has weathered me I am stronger for withstanding the storm.

We Miss You Bobby Lee

This weekend was one you would've loved. We talk about you, laugh about the ridiculous memories of you, and we miss you. We miss you terribly. Heaven better have some amazing snow.. or maybe cloud-boarding. I'll be anxiously waiting till the day we get to ride with you again. 

Life Without.

The one year mark has come and gone.

Fourteen ever changing months without Bobby. As the days, weeks, and months have passed... things are different. We all still have our moments, those will never stop. But now there is a new pain that fills my heart. We are learning how to live without Bobby. 

He still crosses my mind every passing day. For that, I am thankful. It hurts knowing not to expect him anymore. To no longer wonder where he is, why he isn't at the dinner table or on the couch beside me. The confusion has somehow left my subconscious and I now know, he's not coming back. 

Getting caught up in the day to day routines and the simple struggles of life have distracted me. I can relate when my mom says she doesn't want to let go, and doesn't want people to forget. It's astonishing how quickly time has passed. How the heartache has slowly eased. How we can talk about him casually and laugh instead of cry. 

I hope anyone reading this will always remember the sweet boy who was taken too soon. Always remember his laugh and his signature smile. Always remember that he loved you, loved everyone he knew. And remember that life has and will go on... but he is forever with us. 

Team BobbyStrong

The Dirty Dash has come and gone. This year we organized the first annual "BOBBYSTRONG" team. Doing something fun, messy, and challenging was the best way to honor Bobby with a smile on our faces. We've done so many wonderful events raising awareness and getting the word out- but this one was purely for the fun of it. He would have LOVED it. Our team dressed in a pirate theme thanks to some pretty great inspiration.

Bobby floating the Boise River- Summer '12

The BobbyStrong team filled up quickly and we ended up with 20 dirty dashers! We sported some pretty awesome team shirts, eye patches, and tattered shorts.

 

 

The siblings

An awesome day for our family

Everyone had such a great time at the Dirty Dash- my parents even ran with us! I can only imagine what Bobby would have worn and how entertaining he would have been barreling through the mud. This was the perfect place for us to have some fun, let loose, and have a reason to laugh together again... muddy teeth and all.

For those of you who might be wondering where "BOBBYSTRONG" came from, check out the letter below. Written by Conor Cook.

 

A New Perspective

Highway 55 is no stranger to me. Growing up with numerous trips to McCall for the past 17 years and countless treks to and from Moscow, I've certainly seen a mile or two on this road. It was a Sunday afternoon- I had spent the weekend in Boise and decided to leave a few hours early to make sure I had plenty of time before my 5 o'clock shift at the McCall Brewing Company. The date was June 9th, exactly 9 months to the day since Bobby's accident. He was on my mind even more than usual that day. I've spent a lot of time driving by myself between school, work and home- the alone time gives me a few hours to myself to think freely. These drives almost always involve a few tears, my mind automatically goes straight to him.

I was surprised by the little traffic I encountered and was impressed by the good time I was making. I came around a corner and passed a car with people waving and honking at me signaling to "STOP". I slowed down as I saw a few cars stopped up ahead. A man came running down the middle of the highway in a panic. I rolled down my window in time to hear him tell the car in front of me that there was a terrible accident involving a car and a semi truck and that there was no help yet. My heart sank and I immediately prayed for whoever was involved "God help them, help them, help them" was all I could say over and over out loud. I could only assume the absolute worst.

I didn't know how to react. A woman in the car behind me got out and started running towards the accident, so did many others. I was able to find cell phone service and immediately called my mom with a shaky voice and no idea what else to do. Eventually I walked past about eight cars and around the corner. It was a very sad sight. You can only image what kind of damage a semi can do at 50+ miles an hour. By the time I had the stomach to walk over there, help had arrived. I stood and watched as the paramedics used the 'jaws of life' to free the woman from her vehicle. Life flight struggled to find a place to land among the heavy traffic and narrow road. I could see what was happening but was far away enough to never see her face. I watched as the paramedics instantly began CPR all the way to the helicopter.

For the next three hours we waited for the road to open. All I could think about was what had happened in the helicopter. Wondering if they were able to save her or if I had just witnessed her final hour. I drove extra cautiously the rest of the trip and kept a close eye on those yellow lines.

I've been thinking about the woman in that van, her family and everyone who loved her. It was a very unsettling experience and I'm still not sure if it was just a coincidence that I was there. It gave me an idea of what happened to Bobby the night he died. He was not alone, people were trying to help him, he went from this life to the next in a matter of minutes.

I wish I could tell the family that they'll see her again and that I feel for them on an extremely personal level. I'll always think of her when I pass that turn in the road. I'll remember to slow down and to pay attention- this precious life can be taken away so quickly.

This tragedy gave me a whole new perspective. As if from the outside looking in on what we've recently experienced. I was on the same drive exactly one week later and stopped when I saw her beautiful cross- it was an entirely different feeling on that road. Rest In Peace Kristen Marie Scott

Bobby's Tree

 

Trees are the earth's endless effort to speak to the listening heaven. ~Rabindranath Tagore, Fireflies, 1928

 

In April, we held a very special event; a tree dedication for Bobby. It was wonderful to see family and friends join together for an evening of remembering, love and support. Homemade chili, corn dogs, and baked potatoes were a hit- guest speakers, music and live singing made for fun and light-hearted afternoon.

 

Around 6 o'clock we took a short walk across Tully Park to find Bobby's tree. The group gathered around our family as a few words were spoken. My dad announced that this tree was placed between two baseball fields where Bobby played little league growing up.

 

The plaque is perfect. Bobby loved anything and everything Nike- "Just Do It" fits him to the T. The beauty of a tree dedication is that it will continue to live and to grow for many years to come.

  

Thank you to everyone who was apart of this beautiful dedication.

 



Photos: Jed Davis

Doing it for Bobby

If you're from Boise, chances are you've heard of the Race to Robie Creek. It's been termed the "toughest race in the northwest" for its grueling hill climb in the Boise foothills. When I heard about registration for the 36th annual race, I was pretty curious. Once I realized where the race course was, I decided I had to run it. Reserve Street takes you up towards table rock- the same road Bobby went up that night and never came back from. I now have a lot of mixed feelings about these particular foothills. The day we drove up to visit the accident site, I held my breath as the hills got steeper and steeper. I can only think of Bobby when I see the cross lit up at night or when the sun is rising above those hills. Visiting his final resting place is a mix of both heartbreaking and somehow peaceful. It's hard to explain but I feel closer to him when I'm up there.

My goal is to gain some positively after this race and have a new way to look at that road. I know he'll be there pushing me along and helping me get through it. "Doing it for Bobby" because he loved a good physical challenge, accomplishing things and earning some bragging rights. My new goal in life is to try things that scare me, I know Bobby would do just about anything- and since he can't now, I'll do it for him.

The Dash

The Dash

By Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak

At the funeral of a friend.

He referred to the dates on his tombstone

From the beginning…to the end.

He noted that first came the date of his birth

And spoke of the following date with tears,

But he said what mattered most of all

Was the dash between those years.

For that dash represents all the time

That he spent alive on earth

And now only those who love him

Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,

The cars…the house…the cash.

What matters is how we live and love

And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard;

Are there things you’d like to change?

For you never know how much time is left

That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough

To consider what’s true and real

And always try to understand

The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger

And show appreciation more

And love the people in our lives

Like we never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect

And more often wear a smile…

Remembering that this special dash

Might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is read

With your life’s actions to rehash

Would you be proud of the things they say

About how you spent your dash?

Our Dragonfly

Water Bugs & Dragonflies is a short book explaining death to young children. My mom read this and passed it along to me- now I'd like to pass it along to you.
(I know it looks long, but it's a quick read, and very touching).

Down below the surface of a quiet pond lived a little colony of water bugs. they were a happy colony, living far away from the sun. For many months they were very busy, scurrying over the soft mud on the bottom of the pond. 

They did notice that every once in a while one of their colony seemed to lose interest in going about with its friends. Clinging to the stem of a pond lily, it gradually moved out of sight and was seen no more. 

"Look!" said one of the water bugs to another." One of our colony is climbing up the lily stalk. Where do you suppose she is going?" Up, up, up it went slowly. Even as they watched, the water bug disappeared from sight. Its friends waited and waited but it didn't return. 

"That's funny!" said one water bug to another. 

"Wasn't she happy here?" asked a second water bug. 

"Where do you suppose she went?" wondered a third. 

No one had an answer. They were greatly puzzled. 

Finally, one of the water bugs, a leader in the colony, gathered its friends together. "I have an idea. The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk must promise to come back and tell us where he or she went and why." 

"We promise," they said solemnly. 

One spring day, not long after, the very water bug who had suggested the plan found himself climbing up the lily stalk. Up, up, up he went. Before he knew what was happening, he had broken through the surface of the water, and fallen onto the broad, green lily pad above. 

When he awoke, he looked about with surprise. He couldn't believe what he saw. A startling change had come to his old body. His movement revealed four silver wings and a long tail. Even as he struggled, he felt an impulse to move his wings. The warmth of the sun soon dried the moisture from the new body. He moved his wings again and suddenly found himself up above the water. He had become a dragonfly.

Swooping and dipping in great curves, he flew through the air. He felt exhilarated in the new atmosphere. 

By and by, the new dragonfly landed happily on a lily pad to rest. Then it was that he chanced to look below to the bottom of the pond. Why, he was right above his old friends, the water bugs! There they were, scurrying about, just as he had been doing some time before. 

Then the dragonfly remembered the promise: "The next one of us who climbs up the lily stalk will come back and tell where he or she went and why." 

Without thinking, the dragonfly darted down. He hit the surface of the water and bounced away. Now that he was a dragonfly, he could no longer go into the water. 

"I can't return!" he said in dismay." At least I tried, but I can't keep my promise. Even if I could go back, not one of the water bugs would know me in my new body. I guess I'll just have to wait until they become dragonflies, too. Then they'll understand what happened to me, and where I went." 

And the dragonfly winged off happily into its wonderful new world of sun and air. 

A Thousand Word Picture

Luke shared this with me tonight. He recently wrote a memoir in his senior English class and is letting me share his very personal journey with anyone reading this. 

A Thousand Word Picture

by: Luke Rogers

            It’s kind of weird starring at your naked arm knowing it’s never going to look the same in about five seconds. The first touch of that stinging needle injecting ink into my skin was the most regretful moment of my life. It wasn't the pain or the strange looking guy awkwardly grabbing and positioning my body, it was the thick line permanently curving up my arm towards my shoulder that had me thinking twice. Once I started there was no way that I was about to stop, all I could do to reassure myself was hope and pray that I would look like a badass when it was all over. Luckily I already do so it couldn't take away from anything anyways! It took about two hours for the artist to get done drawing on me, by that time I was pretty much done being poked by sharp mechanical needles for the day. I was so excited to see the finished design on my arm, but my mom peeking over me to see it and having a completely blank stare on her face, then faking a smile and saying “it looks good” kind of had me worried. My parents are not a fan of tattoos. I walked over to the mirror bracing myself for the new look of my right arm. I was right; it totally made me look like a badass!

            One day on my way home I got the strangest phone call I could have ever gotten. My friend Bear called and was asking about my little brother Bobby. He was freaking out asking if he was alright, so I said “Yea man he’s fine”. Then I asked why he was so freaked out, he said “Well Tiffany died in a car accident last night and they said Bobby was in there”. I was in shock; I had already tried calling Bobby that morning to see how his night went. All I could say was “I’ll have to call you back” I was so worried about him. I couldn't even hang up because my hands were shaking so much. I tried to call Bobby twice and I was so frustrated not knowing what was going on because he still didn't answer. He always answers me. I was going down eagle road as fast as my truck would go, I was in a panic. When I came around the corner to my street I just saw cars, and all of them were familiar. They were on both sides of the road as far down as you could see. This made my heart sink lower than I thought possible; at that point I knew something had happened to Bobby. I parked in the middle of the road not even caring what I was doing and ran to my front door. My dad was watching for me, everyone was. Nobody wanted to tell me what had happened I knew it. He met me out side before I got through the front yard, all I could do was stare at his face, I had never seen this look on anybody’s face in my life. I stopped and I stood an awkward ten feet away from him because I couldn’t move. I looked straight into his eyes terrified and somehow got the question out “what happened to Bobby?’. His eyes were beat red and his voice was shaking. He starred right back and said “Son, I have some really bad news… your brother was killed in a car accident last night”. That was the worst pain that I have ever felt; I’d rather have been shot and died a painful death than have heard those words. I remember my chest felt like it had caved in on itself. My arms and hands were so weak I couldn’t move them, and just complete numbness came over my whole body. My family piled outside after me trying to comfort me but there was nothing they could do. My Brother Matt put his arms around me and I didn’t let go of him for forever it seemed like. I never wanted to let go. Bobby was my best friend; he was the closest person that I had. I felt like I let him down not being there for him that night. I was always looking out for him; I never let anything bad happen to him. I loved him so much; I never knew how much he meant to me until he was gone.

            One night within the week after, I was missing him like crazy; looking through all of his pictures seemed to comfort me more than anything else because I was in a ton of them. I found a picture he took from about a month before and it was of a tribal tattoo that he drew up in class. He was an artist he always was drawing something. He told me that when he turned 18 that he wanted to get this tattoo with all of the brothers and wear it as a symbol of brotherhood because that was something very special to us. My cousin Jake and I would let him draw all of his tattoo designs on us; they were in sharpie so it was on us for at least a week or so, but now were so happy he did. We forgot all about those, they actually looked really good. We took the best picture that we had and redrew it on paper. I put the word brother in there and we all decided that we need to get it. So all my older brothers talked me into it; that was my argument to my parents. I’m actually still surprised that they let me get it, they weren't too happy about it; but they had nothing to say because it was wrong to argue against it.

            The whole point of getting that was to remember Bobby for everything that he was. We have the strongest brotherhood I've ever known. I think that’s awesome that all of my brothers and I have that now. To us it means an unbreakable brotherhood and it will never let us forget our brother Bobby. It’s amazing how much of an affect he had on people and how many lives he touched. If you met him, you would never forget him. I’m glad that I have this design on me that Bobby made and I can look at it every day for the rest of my life and know how much meaning it truly has behind it. I will never forget my little brother, but I know there are going to be times when I won’t always be thinking of him. Bobby was really a big part of me and I know I was a big part of him. This can just be a reminder of Bobby and how much of an impact he had on my life to make me want to put his design on me permanently, now he really is a part of me.