Putting Things in Perspective

Putting Things in Perspective

Putting Things in Perspective

 

This photo depicts me the other day.

Grumpy cat on steroids.

Why?

Well, for a number of reasons, but primarily because, for hours on end, a crew of landscapers were driving their bobcats up and down our lawn, smashing the roots of our trees, snapping branches off of our bushes and filling up our entire house with diesel fumes just so they could accomplish some sort of deforestation project in the common area behind our yard.

This, I might add, was all done without even asking our permission to use our side yard as their logger’s highway.

After suffering through five hours of destruction, stink, and mayhem, I donned my boots, jacket, and bad attitude and marched outside to give those tree-lugging trespassers a piece of my mind.

Instead, I slipped on the icy snow, and fell down the hill crash landing first on my rear end and then on my head as my neck whipped back and cracked my skull on a hillside iceberg, all this with a gaggle of amused lumberjacks watching the show.

Yes, I know the fact that I would fall is shocking. (Gracefulness 101. . .)

Needless to say, however, my disposition was not improved by my whole Chevy Chase pratfall routine.

So, I dragged my injured carcass inside and called my husband, Jame, as I downed some Advil and shifted an icepack alternately from my goose egg head bump to my broken butt. I ranted and raved like there was no tomorrow about the supreme injustice of it all.

And after I stopped caterwauling, there was silence on the other end of the phone, until, finally, he spoke.

Quietly.

Solemnly.

His friend, Warren, on Long Island, had just called.

Warren’s son, Kevin, had died overnight.

Kevin was born in Korea. Warren and his wife, Karen, had taken Kevin in as a guest in their home when he was a young child in need of heart surgery as they’ve done for so many children in need. (You can read about their selfless gifts of life by clicking on this link.) After Kevin’s surgery, Warren and Karen agreed to keep him on and raise him as their own since, as a developmentally handicapped child, his prospects of a quality life back in his home country were not too promising.

Kevin’s heart condition manifested itself, in part, in the creation of blood clots, eventually requiring surgery to be removed. So, a few days ago, at age 27, Kevin went back in for heart surgery and tragically passed away during recovery.

Warren’s, Karen’s and all of Kevin’s sibling’s hearts are shattered. No one should ever have to bury a child.

We grieve for them all.

Jame and another friend are returning tonight from Kevin’s wake in New York. He was so glad to be able to be at Warren’s side during this time to hopefully help ease his heartbreak, at least temporarily: at least somewhat.

And here I sit on a bruised tush coupled with a bruised ego, and wonder about life and death and love and pain and everything in-between.

Sometimes we need a wake up call to put it all in perspective.

Somehow tire tracks in our yard don’t seem that important anymore.

I think I’ll go hold my favorite 12-year-old’s hand while giving heartfelt thanks for the abundance of good in our lives.

 

 

 

Written by Becky


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10 Comments
  • Arlene says:

    So sorry for your friends who have lost Kevin. It’s definitely a reminder of the brief time we have on this earth and why we should embrace today and not worry about yesterday or tomorrow. Warren and Karen were lucky, if just for a short time, to witness first hand an angel among us. God bless them all.

  • Sue says:

    Becky, your wonderful words are a great reminder to us all to treasure the past, pray for the future, but to especially live in the present with the many blessings that we receive every day.
    Sue

  • Kim says:

    Becky, a very very nice reminder! I was wondering what all those trucks were doing by your house the other day…

  • warren goercke says:

    Thank you for your kind comments Becky. God has given you a tremendous gift and we are all glad that you are using it to make a difference in our lives. Karen and I were shocked to see Jimmy and Jim Thomson at Kevin’s wake. Such great brothers! The outpouring of support was unbelievable. Kevin’s cardiologist, Dr. Rubin Cooper, took hours out of his busy schedule to attend. Kevin followed Dr Cooper throughout his short life. Despite Dr. Cooper becoming head of Cornell Weill Medical School in NYC and now Chief of Cardiology at Northwell Health (formally Long island Jewish/North Shore University Hospital and the largest employer in NYS) he always kept Kevin as his personal patient. Kevin had that impact on people. Kevin was a special child, seeing and talking to Angels when none of us saw them. He brought comfort to a grandmother and my wife Karen who were crying after the death of a two year old here from Trinidad for surgery. Kevin came up to them saying, “Why are you crying? He is in a better place now”. Then calmly walked away. How does a 10 year old with learning disabilities know these things? When the priest told that story at Kevin’s funeral Mass, the sun came out from overcast skies and streamed across Kevin’s casket. You could hear
    the attendees gasp, even the priest was moved. He was truly “Kevin Sent from Heaven”.

    • Becky says:

      Oh, Warren, your beautiful words brought me to tears. It seems that Kevin wanted you to know yesterday that he’s in a better place as well.

      I wish for you peace and healing and comfort in knowing that “your buddy” is now living joyfully with the other angels in heaven.

  • Patty from MMC says:

    I am so sorry for your and your friend’s great loss. I have friends who recently buried a son who died too young, and it is the worst thing that anyone could imagine. There are moments in time where I lament various things in my less-than-perfect life and then I see pictures of the Syrian refugees ……… My troubles seem insignificant compared to those of many others. While having your yard abused by construction workers is not a minor thing, and certainly your fall wasn’t a “choice experience” (and very painful, at that!), I am certain that it all seemed to pale in cmparison with this tragic event.


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About Me:

Hi! My name is Becky. I’m a mom, a wife, a friend, a writer, and a compulsive thinker. Don't invite me to a spa or to shop the day away, but rather, make me laugh, engage me in interesting conversation, play a game with me, or give me a cappuccino and homemade vanilla bean flan and I’m yours ‘til the cows come home.

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