Friday, August 22, 2008
Triumphs and Defeats
I absolutely love the Olympics. I always have. I love the spirit the Olympics brings. The coming together, the pride in country, the incredible athleticism. It is inspiring to say the least. I'm not sure which is more entertaining...sitting down and watching the Olympics, or watching Vic and I watch the Olympics. When Michael Phelps won his seventh gold medal by a fingertip, I'm pretty sure most of Park City could hear Vic screaming. Likewise, when Alicia Sacramone fell off the balance beam, then again stumbled on floor exercise, plenty of neighbors could hear me. (Did I swear?)
It got me thinking about their stories, their legacy.
Michael Phelps is INCREDIBLE. The most gold medals by any Olmpian? Truly Amazing. That is only part of his story. He was raised by a single mother. Where is his dad? He didn't win all gold medals in his first Olympics. He was diagnosed at a young age with ADHD. I don't know all the details, most of us only know what we see before us now--an athlete with stupendous ability. A champion. Eat, Sleep, Swim. That's his story, as far as I know. Again, it is incredible. What a legacy!
And what about Alicia? What will be the next chapter in her story? What about Nastia Luikin? How much did her parents sacrifice to leave Russia and come to America? What about women's volleyball champion Misty May who lost her mother in 2002 to cancer and spreads a little of her ashes on the court after each major win? Talk about stories.
To me, they are all champions.
And what of my story? Have I been defeated? Today marks three months since I said goodbye to the person I loved more purely, more intensely, than any other human being. My only child. And what kind of legacy am I creating? I think of the tragedy of that day. Seeing your child suffer and NOT BEING ABLE TO DO ANYTHING TO HELP HER is almost more than a heart can bear. The look in her eyes. Panic. They were locked on mine. It haunts me. I compare it to living through 9/11, and the recent earthquake in China where parents desperately looked for their children through the rubble. I am a tragedy survivor like them. What will be my story in the end? Will I fall off the beam? Will I win the gold medal?
As I watched these Olympic events unfold, and thought about the stories of our lives, I had a powerful thought. For me, it felt like inspiration. It has carried me through the past several days and empowered me. It was simply this:
"This is my story! The life I am living now is part of my story. I can't change it. Lucy died. Lucy DIED. That is part of my story. I couldn't help her, I couldn't save her. That is the story I am living now. But I choose to believe it was her time. I choose to believe it is all part of the plan. I choose to believe she is changing lives, saving lives. She is beautiful and talented and smart and she changed my life in more ways then I can even begin to describe. My husband is amazing. He is strong and good and loves being a father. He loves me. We love each other and have a good marriage. We will not be defeated. We will continue to learn from this and continue to have our hearts open and changed in deep and beautiful ways that most people may never experience or comprehend. We will go on. We will have more children, more joy, more experiences. We will do more than just be tragedy survivors. We won't just survive, we will thrive. We will write a beautiful and strong story. Lucy died. She is gone. I can accept and embrace this as my story and it can be a thing of beauty. Or I can deny my story and wish it weren't mine. This is my story! I am learning to embrace it. I want to create a legacy to be proud of despite our tragedy."
I count my every little triumph. Anything I do that requires me to be out of bed, and where I am enjoying life without being depressed is considered a triumph for me. Getting out of bed in the morning is a triumph. Going running. Functioning as Primary President. Cleaning my house. Teaching a voice lesson. Dancing my heart out. Going to an audition. Tomorrow I am running in a triathalon... Triumph! Here are a few more triumphs this summer:
Going to a Salt Lake Real Game with the Foote Family. Vic and I both love soccer (and together make a pretty mean team!) and we used to dream of Lucy playing the sport. Vic was convinced she would play in the world cup and took her to this same stadium to see Beckham play when Lucy was just a few weeks old. We cried a little at the game, but being there was a triumph for us.
Playing Rock Band with friends. Talk about defeat. Vic has no rhythm and is totally tone deaf. I have learned to accept this as part of our story. Love you, honey. My talent makes up for it and turns this into a triumph.
Visiting with a dear friend Katie Quinn whom I haven't seen in TWELVE YEARS. What a beautiful woman and what a beautiful story she is creating after the death of her brother and mother. Our visit was satisfying and filling.
Seeing old and wonderful friends at Carly's wedding and thouroughly enjoying myself! Blue-eyed beauties.
This is my story. I can be empowered by my story, or defeated. I hope I will triumph.
(Please note that my blog design and content in the menu bar is still being tweaked and updated. I will have that Park City guide ready nex...
I've been harassing my Instagram followers to subscribe to the podcast "Kind World". Guyzzz...IT'S WONDERFUL. Full ...
Hello, Friends! I'm still here. Do people still read this? Here's what we've been up to: -Sponsoring a refugee family in Syr...
Gently wiping that snot off your face. Routine. Nothing special. Inconvenient, even Now, a longed-for privilege Stretchin...