After the Storm

There is a line in The Princes Bride that I just love, well many actually, but this one comes to mind for this post. Let me set it up: The Man in Black and Indigo are having an epic sword fight on the top of the Cliffs of Insanity. Back and forth they battle, and Indigo realizes his skills have been bettered asks, "Who are you?"

"No one of consequence," the man in black answers.

"I must know."

"Get used to disappointment."

And that is the line I love, "Get used to disappointment."

It is so true, life is too full of disappointments, and on a larger scale tragedies. I am not making light of tragedies and life's storms. I've seen devastation first hand.

I've dug out from huge snow storms. I was on site after the Oklahoma City Tornado ripped through a section of the city. I saw 2x4's imbedded in trees, where all the grass was sucked out of the ground. Where the only thing left of someone's home was the foundation. I was in New Orleans after Katrina. I was one of the first into a home after the flood waters receded. The odor of the mold was so bad... But we managed to salvage some photos and some keepsakes that had stayed above the flood waters. I helped to haul debris from the homes and tear out the molded sheet rock and prep houses to begin rebuilding. I helped to cut downed trees from homes and schools in Baton Rouge after Gustav came through. I've seen devastation first hand, and lent a hand in rebuilding.

Each of my children, and my dear wife have had traumatic events in their lives. Cut tendons, torn mouths, traumatic amputations, depression, and yes, even death. I share this to make a point.

The sun always comes back up. The storm passes. Life goes on.

We are then left with a choice. Do we let the disappointment, the tragedy, the set back defeat us, throw up our collective hands and say, "I'm done?" or do we dig in, reach deep down inside us and find that inner strength and move on?

I remember all the devastation Katrina left behind. There wasn't a place untouched by ruin. Trees were cut up and stacked along the road, trees and trees and trees! There wasn't a business sign that wasn't blown out. Bent polls, blue tarps on homes, and general mayhem and disruption the storm left behind.

However everyone rolled up their collective sleeves and dug in. Little by little things got better. Six years later things look better than before. True there are scars, but overall things are better.

I've recovered from my set backs. Others have too. The thing I've learned is this: The sun always comes out after the fury of the storm has passed. Hope comes with the sunrise. After a spring shower, the air feels fresh and smells clean. True, I've dug out after the snow storm, but things feel new. It is so peaceful outside in the cold air with the snow shovel. It is peaceful, time to think, and when I'm done the walkway and driveway look great. The sun dries out the cleared area, and things are "as they should be."

A friend's home burned to the ground. They rebuilt and have a better home than the one they lost. I lost a job, but the new jobs have taken me to places and done things I wouldn't have done if I had kept the job I had.

I read a book several years ago, The Greatest Salesman in the World. There was a section in it that said, "This too shall pass."

Great thought. No matter how bad things are, they will pass. Enjoy the good while it is with you as it too will pass. Life is full of ups and downs. Enjoy the good, and remind yourself the sun will rise after the storm passes.

The Snapshot

Snapshots.

The word is appropriate. My dad, my wife, two of my sons, and myself enjoy photography. A photograph is different from a snapshot. A photograph uses light, subject, film speed, depth of field, foreground, color, subject, and perhaps even the shot tells a story. A snapshot is just that. Something looks good and the picture is just “snapped.”

So with all the enjoyment of photography it is ironic that a snapshot has become a cherished possession. Recently I was gathering up things from the office I would no longer be using. I picked up the snapshot. To anyone else it is just a picture. A picture of myself with my 18 year old son walking along the white sandy beach of Biloxi, Mississippi a year after Katrina took the town off the map. What makes the snapshot so special is two fold and taken together gives me solace.

It was the Saturday of Labor Day weekend, 2006. We hadn’t even planned on going to the beach that day. That morning my wife and I looked at each other and knew we had to get away. So we told the kids we were taking an old fashioned trip, no iPods, Gameboys, PSPs, or DVD players. We would take a trip to the coast with each other and have some fun. So we packed a lunch, loaded the children into the van and hit the road.

We were about 15 minutes into our trip when Kevin’s cell phone rang, or rather his ring tone sounded. It was work wanting to know if he could come in that day. He told them no. I told Kevin we could take the trip on Monday and he could go into work today but he declined. We were on our way.

It was a fun trip. We sang songs, laughed, ate lunch at Sonic because Kevin had a bunch of coupons and he liked eating there. The marquee said, “There are no hurricanes in heaven.” We laughed at that. Got to the beach and chased seagulls. My wife’s camera was passed around as Kevin, Lynda, and I took turns taking pictures of things that interested us. Jelly fish, sand dollars, bird footprints in the sand, a crab. The kids making the gulls fly. Lynda snapped a shot of Kevin and me walking up the beach.

The following Saturday Kevin was fatally injured in an auto accident and passed away from his injuries a few days later. So I look at the snapshot and remember the joy that was my son. A reminder of a trip that almost wasn’t and a captured moment that brings to mind a day of fun. The snapshot is the last picture of Kevin and me together. Solace comes from having no regrets and gratitude for my wife who captures the moments with her ever present camera.

Thoughts of that day bring back good memories. I don’t remember the stories we shared, or the jokes we laughed at. I remember a pleasant day where we rode in the car entertaining ourselves because we sang songs, laughed, and enjoyed a day together with no outside entertainment from DVD’s or electronic games or zoned out in personal space with iPod headphones on tuning out each other. We were all tuned into each other. The memory is special because it was the last trip we ever took with Kevin.

A simple snapshot, a cherished moment, a reminder to live each day by enjoying the moments as they come. Life is a series of moments that are strung together like popcorn on a child’s craft necklace. As I put the snapshot into my box of things to take from my office I smile at the memories and sigh in relief, glad we decided to get away for a day. My snapshot that reminds me, at least for that day, that I have no regrets.

-- Dean C. Rich January 2008

Note: Kevin passed away 5 years ago September 12th. He has been on my mind this last week, as anniversaries tend to do. I read The Dash on The Starving Novelist's blog (Wednesday, September 14, 2011 blog entry) and it reminded me of my late son, so I thought I'd share this. This is one reason I am so passionate about how I spend my time, and remembering what is really important in your life.