Living in Faith

With postulation we begin each day, assuming that night we will return to the bed of where we started our trek that morning. It is a rare occasion we are struck through our entire body by the frailty of life. As if it is our right to move into tomorrow, our arrival not yet spoke, but the belief that we will be there.

February 13th did not begin as so for me- perhaps for the first time in my life. I had likely been shaken by the feeble state in which our lives truly are based via the surprising event of flight 3407; in some form it had momentarily re-set my mind.

No- I knew no one in that flight; nor, do I believe at this time that I know someone directly involved by that happenstance. Despite that, I somehow feel so directly affected. Trying to understand or even wrap my mind around what those people were thinking in those final moments; and the mere idea that not more then 15 minutes away- likely less, from my apartment, that tragic event unfolded seems to shake my understanding of "today."

Since the day I knew I would have a child I began a mission of empowerment. I would be a single parent and I found it my responsibility to build this concrete foundation for my son and I. I would not be controlled by the circumstances but I would create a life of certainty for him. Since that decision I have done everything I can to create a stable environment for Popeye- all things within my control from healthy foods to grow his mind and body to the type of childcare he receives when I am not with him. The first few times Popeye spent weekends away from home I would make a checklist of all his needs, accounting for every hour he was not in my presence. Yes, I am sure there would whispered agreements about my sanity or lack thereof, where it concerned that child.

However, I watched the television with great intent last Thursday evening. At first excusing Buffalo's weak "Breaking News" attempts at a plane crash into a home nearby as most likely a lost amateur pilot in the harrowing February winds of Western NY. Yet, within five minutes the event covered every small station in the area. The possibility of something much more serious became real. Around 12:30 in the morning the revelation of 50 lives lost become a reality. My stomach sank. In a cut throat format as competing media can only do I watched the interview of a man whose sister was on that flight. She was coming home to have a "Valentines Date" with her five year old nephew. His voice cracked as reporter after reporter asked him how "he felt."

My mouth dry and my eyes wet I quietly sneak to Harrison's cribside. Wrapping him snug in his quilt, I spent a few moments pulling him close. With paced breathing he dreamed on, likely of sweet foods and peek-a-boo festivities. His skin against mine, breath steady on my ear, the only two words I could find I began to repeat gently into his sleeping conscious. "I'm Sorry."

Not sorry for bringing him into this world. Or even sorry to him for the horrific event I had just had disclosed to me. But sorry for all the things in his life that I could not control. For the heartbreak of events he will no doubtedly experience in his life; for the broken promises he will endure; the uncertainity of others; and in fullness- for the breach of the promise of tomorrow.

If we allowed it, fear could rule our lives. How easy it was to promise that Thursday night that I will never fly again. Though, a decision of fear is not always a decision of reality, is it? Anyone who knows me knows that I could not keep that promise. Nor can I live a life in the shadow of fear because of the possibility that tomorrow is just a chance.

I cannot keep a promise to Harrison that I will not allow anything to ever happen to him. Anything small; anything big. What an out of control feeling it is to be a parent. The fact that I would trade each of my limbs to protect him is truth; the fact that it would actually protect him from anything by approaching life in that manner is not true.

What I do have to offer him is a home surrounded by love; continual acceptance for all that he is and the support for who is becoming- one day at a time. Each day we will continue this celebration of our lives together. The promise that I know cannot be broken is that what I offer him is real- for every day in Gods grace on this earth we will celebrate. It is with great faith we live and cherish life- the circumstances beyond our control.

My heart goes out to anyone directly affected by the unbelievable events of Flight 3407. I cannot imagine nor even conceive the depth of your feelings of betrayl in the promise of tomorrow for loved ones. It is with a somber heart I offer my prayers and my condolescences.