A Soulful Tribute

The buck bounded forward, leapt once, straight into the car.
“Thud.”
I watched the animal bounce backward twenty or thirty feet before it came to rest just past the shoulder on the grass.

“What happened, Daddy?” Linus asked, startled.
I tried to pull myself together.
“We had an accident, son,” I answered. “A deer jumped in front of us and we hit him.”

“I want to see him,” Linus pleaded.
“I don’t think he’s going to make it, son,” I said.
“I want to see him,” Linus repeated.

I pulled the automobile over to inspect the damage—or perhaps more to collect my shaken wits.
The bent right panel, creased hood and crushed headlight signaled how lucky we were.
Not so for the dying creature.

I honored Linus’ request.
We turned around and made our way back to the shattered glass that marked the spot.
Two fawn-colored hooves swayed in the air as if to wave goodbye, then settled.

“He died, Linus.” I said. “That makes me very sad.”
For the first time I noticed that Linus’ car seat sat 45 degrees askance, away from the seat belt.
“It’s okay, Daddy,” Linus answered. “Maybe he’ll get a new body.”

I drove on, numb and shaken, rattled inside, unclear of my own emotions.
Such fragility, such a delicate balance.
Here one moment, gone the next.
Gone forever.

What message do I glean from this?
What am I supposed to learn?
I’m struck by the importance of each life, of each precious moment, of each encounter, of the need to cast aside pettiness and judgment, selfishness and narrow-minded views.
“Remove your blinders,” cried the noble beast, “Make your eyes as big as mine.”

I feel paralyzed, locked with my chin on my hand.
Tap the keyboard.
Pour it out.

Only two hours have passed.
My mind feels like molasses.
My chest aches.
I draw blank after blank.

Gratitude wrestles with sadness, a search for meaning with a vacuous emptiness—or a state of shock.
I’m not sure which.

I hear the traffic outside.
I hear birds speaking the ways of birds.
I hear the heater pumping out warm air.

I cross and uncross my arms.
I tug the stubble on my chin.
No answers.

I sit and stare and attempt to process—maybe too soon.
No revelations.
No apocalypse.

No scorching insights.
No new determinations.
No significance—at least not yet.

Nothing—except a promise burned deep inside.
“I won’t forget,” I vowed.
“I won’t forget.”

Success Quotes

The greatest good you can do for another is not just share your riches, but reveal to them their own.
Benjamin Disraeli

When you arrive at your future, will you blame your past?
Robert Half

Key Points

When was the last time you felt angry?
How long did you stay in it?
When was the last time you checked out for a while?
Seems to happen to me every few minutes…
When was the last time that you beat up on yourself, mentally or otherwise?
I know that I used to get injured on a regular basis. It took me years to uncover that it was a poor ploy to get attention.
How many moments did I miss while hurt or sick?

Each day I marvel at how fast our kids are growing—new ideas, new achievements, magic all around. Nothing is impossible, life in the moment, no limits.
What about us?
Do we wallow in self-pity, hold on to grudges, have difficulty moving forward, re-writing our own script?
In an age where most things move ever faster, do we have a single moment to waste?
How soon will it all be gone?

As in the story, these questions beg for answers, perhaps each tailor-made for the person asking them. I urge you to pause and ponder, take a breath and look around, express gratitude for what you see.
I’d love to hear from you on this.
Take a moment and leave a blog post.
What are you doing to make each moment count?