Monday, October 7, 2013

Small Things That Matter...

Today a friend of mine linked to an article by a local sports writer about a boy who played a single, magical season of T-Ball.

The writer's name is Jenni Carlson. I'll let her writing speak for itself:

Hugh, who was buried in his No. 10 Blake Bell jersey, made lots of people smile, but never did he smile bigger than when he was on the field with his T-ball team. As much as he loved watching his Sooners and his Thunder and his sister, he loved playing even more.
That's why Rick sat down amid the worst grief that a parent can feel and wrote that email to the parents of the kids on Hugh's T-ball team.
He wanted to thank them for the gift that they'd given their family.
Read the article here
(Yeah, it's sad. But I didn't start crying until Carlson told about the stranger showing up at the funeral and explained why.)
Whatever piddly problem I think I'm dealing with today, my kids are healthy and happy and fed, and I need to be damned grateful for that small gift. When I forget, life hands me an uncomfortable reminder that we're here for a wink of a celestial eyelash; a tenth-of-a-millisecond in a history too large to measure.
Am I doing everything I can to make my millisecond count?
Cheers...and nice job, Jenni Carlson.


  1. From what I've seen, yes, you are very good at making every second count with your kiddos. Wish I had your energy!

    1. Ha! Hang around our house for a while and you'd see it's either full steam or dead stop. But thanks. ;)


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