The new year is a time when we can figuratively start fresh. Really, there is but one second separating last year from this, but the new year is a psychological Spring. Last year’s issues are boxed up into a tidy package, and we are ready to either move on, rebuild or start over.

I found this post that I had written last month for one of my other blogs., and for me it helps keep things in perspective. It isn’t business, but it helps keep business problems from being seen to be all-important. This was hammered home to me again this past week when one of my daughter’s friends died at the age of 21 from an overdose:

Last night, I was half-heartedly monitoring twitter while writing a post and saw this go by in my stream:

ladaws: My heart is aching for @military_mom.

I assumed that military_mom- whom I hadn’t followed before then- had a child sick with croup or the flu, although “aching” was an extreme usage usage of the word. I followed the stream back to the source just to make sure that there wasn’t some way I could help, and saw this:

Please pray like never before, my 2 yr old fell in the pool

Those are the most terrible words a person can read, and it would be unfathomable to write them. The child later died.
More unbelievable was that not one but several people added to this woman’s pain by implying she hadn’t watched the two year old well enough.
When Meg was nearly 2, we went to a birthday party for one of the cousins at my brother-in-law’s camp. It was located on Lake Whalom and I was nervous. Meg demanded watching every second, as two year olds do, and she was a ball of unfocused energy. I have seen 2 year olds sit and play for at least 5 minutes; this one could not be categorized like that.
So I was nervous. I got her all dressed up in a pretty foam-green party dress, and we headed over to the camp, where the party was in full swing. All of the extended family was there, including probably 10 other children. After two hours of watching me follow Meg around to make sure I knew where she was, my husband PJ said, “You’re making me nervous. Sit down and I’ll watch her for you.” So I sat down and had a burger, and caught up with PJ maybe 5 minutes later. He was sitting down. “Where’s Meg?” I asked. “Oh, she is running around with the other kids. She can’t get outside- my mother and sister are sitting in the other room.”
I blasted out of the living room looking for a tiny green dress, then headed to the kitchen where his mother and sisters were sitting talking- and where the door to outside and the lakefront beach was. “Have you seen Meg?” No. No.
I ran outside and down to the beach. There- about 6 feet out from shore, right before the dropoff- was my little girl, on her tiptoes, green dress billowing around her. I can still see it. If I had been there 5 minutes later, how could I have even found her?
I was literally spared the heartache that @military_mom is experiencing, and will experience every day of her life. This “Oh, but what if” went the other way for me, just because- not because I am a better mom, or because of a better guardian angel, or because of the grace of God. It was just because the coin happened to flip lucky side up.
Or maybe the grace of God is what we call luck. I don’t know. The only thing I know for certain is that I got to keep my daughter.
There are all kinds of things you know. You know that you need to appreciate what- and who- you have. Say I lose everything? All that means is I have been given a chance to start over.
I was reminded last night there are some things that don’t come with a do-over.