Kevin S. Cohen

Kevin, 9 Years have passed since those selfish, crazy, inhumane bastards ripped you from this Earth.

9 Years of hoping and praying that when you left us it was sudden and without pain.

There is not a day that goes by that I don’t think about you, remember the fun times with everyone. For everyday I have a picture of you on my dresser that I look at when I get ready to go wherever it is I have to go, that you no longer can, sitting right next to a picture of the WTC that i took when I visited many years before I even knew you.

Once a year we are forced to relive the pain that those people caused far too many of us. Civilians, working to pay the bills, support their families, or feel that they have arrived when they looked out of those windows atop one of the largest buildings at that time, which you did. You were great a what you did, so many times helping me figure out what the problems were, when no one else was around and even though it wasn’t your job to do so. That was you though, always extending your hand out to others when they needed you. Always had your door open to welcome friends and family no matter the time, day or night.

Kevin, your death does not go in vain, we try everyday to fight for what they took and what they continually try to take from us, from their own people even. It does not make sense; your tragic exit from us does not make sense. 9-11, a day that doesn’t make sense.

Every year when the bell tolls the 1st time, it rings through me like ice, for that is when the plane took your life. The 4th toll is even colder because that is when your tower was nothing more than a mass grave.

We hoped, we prayed that you took the day off, or were out for a jog.. but like me, you were the early bird. Always starting the day when noone else was there because you can get more done that way, as i laugh.

Today i will not be laughing. I will be remembering you and those lost both civilian and military since this started.

May you eternally Rest In Peace Kevin.

Legacy.com tribute:

Friends Everywhere

When Kevin S. Cohen was 4, his family moved to a new house in Edison, N.J. Rather than being daunted by the move, little Kevin, the youngest of two boys, set out to make new friends. Soon, he was standing at his front door pointing to all the houses where he had made a friend.

“He would point with his little hands and say, ‘That’s my friend across the street, and that’s my friend from next door, and that’s my other friend from that house,’ ” said his mother, Marcia Cohen. “And then, he never changed. He was like a mother that way. You know how children leave home and then it’s the mother who brings them together year after year? Well, it was like that with my son. He had friends from all over. He was very compassionate, a lot of fun. He loved people, and people loved him back.”

On Aug. 17, Mr. Cohen, 28, who worked at Cantor Fitzgerald, took his parents to dinner at a fancy Italian restaurant to celebrate their 36th wedding anniversary. Mrs. Cohen was reluctant at first because she figured he would be tired on a Friday, after working all week. But he insisted.

“Kevin was so proud that he could take us to a nice place like that and take out his credit card and pay by himself,” Mrs. Cohen said. “He thought we had never been there before, but we had. We just didn’t tell him.”
Profile published in THE NEW YORK TIMES on November 24, 2001.

Kevin Cohen, 28, always on the go

Kevin Cohen loved to watch college and pro football — he always rooted for the underdog — and his favorite hobby was playing the keyboards in his New York City apartment, where the door was always open to friends.

Single, he possessed both boundless energy and a kind heart; he was the kind of guy who would call a friend’s mother, a widow, on Thanksgiving, and wish her well.

“I told him (recently), ‘Kevin, why don’t you slow down a bit?’ ” his mother, Marcia, of Edison, recalled. “He said, ‘Mom, I believe in living life to the fullest.’ “

Mr. Cohen, 28, a desktop support person for eSpeed, was working on the 101st floor of the World Trade Center‘s North Tower when the first hijacked airplane crashed into it on Sept. 11. His roommate, Scott Schertzer, 28, who worked for Cantor Fitzgerald, eSpeed’s parent company, was also among those lost.

Mr. Schertzer and Mr. Cohen attended J. P. Stevens High School in Edison together. Mr. Cohen went on to graduate from Western Oregon State College. He continued his studies in computers and became a Microsoft Certified Professional. Mr. Cohen then worked for Lucent Technologies before joining eSpeed a year and a half ago.

“He worked hard and played hard,” said Neil Cohen, his brother. “The guy was always on the go. He had more energy than anyone.”

“He had a great attitude,” Marcia Cohen said of her son. “Nothing got him down . . . He would call up and say, ‘Mom, I’m coming in and taking you out (for an anniversary or special occasion).’ It’s not like he was married and knew these things. He was single.’ “

Mr. Cohen loved to play and listen to music; his favorite groups were Widespread Panic and the Grateful Dead. In recent months, he had started exercising in earnest, running 5-8 miles a day, and was proud of the shape he was in.

Described by his mother as “always smiling, always happy-go-lucky,” Mr. Cohen wasn’t one to think much of or plan for the future.

“Kevin wasn’t the type of individual who made long-range plans,” said Barry Cohen, his father. “He lived day-to-day.”

Besides his parents and brother, Mr. Cohen is survived by his grandfather, Lou Nover of Manalapan.

Profile by Peter Genovese published in THE STAR-LEDGER.

As The Journey Continues

…I’m finding myself becoming more emotional.

It’s normal, I know, but it hit me hard last night when I was going through my stuff to pack. I found photo albums my Aunt gave to me from my childhood that had my baby photos with my Grandparents (now deceased).. I started to cry. lol I laugh now, but I was besides myself last night!

I looked around the room, the room I grew up in and left for about 10 years before I moved back home, all of the familiar things: the artwork, the pictures on the wall of my tribute to my now deceased friend Kevin c/o 9/11,  the photos I took of the towers when I was younger, my trip to Florida with the mustang club I took right before I met Kyle, the photo of my brother and I in Orlando on that same trip. Memories.. happy memories (minus the 9/11, but I will not forget, or allow myself too).

That started the internal movie projector to turn on and start running through all of the fun times I had with my friends after I moved back home . The time I spent as a first responder on the Rescue Squad, the bar hopping we all did, the football games my girl and I used to go to.. Saturday lunch trips to NYC on a whim.. Things I no longer do because life is different now. Friends have kids and families, the group isn’t as tight as it once was because of it.. ya know.. life stuff.. it’s all good, but I reminisce, and digress.

The emotions were very overwhelming to say the least. Then that feeling of fear came over me.. am I doing the right thing? is HE doing the right thing? the safety and comfort of my current life.. my room.. it’s like  HOME BASE. Whenever anything goes wrong I go there and everything else disappears. Sounds childish I know, but when you have been where I have been you need a familiar place to call “uncle” on life. I don’t answer to anyone there, I don’t have to tend to anyone there, OK so I have to put up with the dogs barking next door, but it lasts mere seconds compared to other stuff like the new commute to work, (OMG the thought makes me shiver). My workouts will be affected, at least at first until I can manage a routine for myself, barring traffic delays (which is inevitable), dinner won’t be ready for me after my workouts like it is now. I guess this is what they call growing up? Nah.. I’m grown-up, I just have the greatest Mom that likes to cook and cooks me dinner! I do dishes though, so don’t think I’m totally spoiled.

I think the Reverend was right; I am definitely going to need an adjustment period. I’m going from “Me” to having to share “Me”. It’s been 7 years since I’ve had to share myself.. 7 years! felt like yesterday, but still. The one good thing is that he works nights, so I will have plenty of ME time, I won’t get that feeling of instant suffocation once I move up there. In my opinion, this relationship is perfect ‘because’ of his job.. He’s not home every single minute I am, so on those nights that he’s working I can workout at my leisure and not have to worry about cooking for anyone but myself. Not that I mind cooking or anything, it’s just easier when I don’t have to worry about what kind of food-mood the other is in.

I’ll also have my dog with me, so that will help. It won’t just be me moving, I’ll have my baby-girl with me. My Matron-of-honor is also from my area, and she is now married and living a town over from where I will be. She hates it up there too because the people are just so damn messed up. No one is nice, it’s everyone for themselves, or everyone is in your business whether they should be or not, the traffic is horrendous, everything is closed on Sundays (WTF IS THAT!?).. the literal rat-race. So being up there with her will be comforting as well since her and I have the same personality that comes with central Jersey.. yes, it does exist.. it’s in between the rat-race and the laid back lifestyle of southern Jersey.

As you can see in my ramblings.. that fear of change is all too apparent. I’m nervous about how I will handle it, how our relationship will handle it.. it’s all a life progression I know, but like I said before if you are nervous about something that usually means you are making the right decision.

A Bit of Honesty

They say that if you aren’t nervous about something then it’s not the right decision.

I’m nervous.

In 17 days I will be married. This isn’t something I take lightly. It’s also something I have had a negative experience with with my ex-husband. Though I know in my body and soul that the two of them are NOTHING alike, I still have that nervousness.. that fear.

Ya see, though the X was no picnic prior to the wedding day, he also wasn’t the Dr. Jekyll Mr. Hyde that morphed from the wedding night on. I guess he felt that once the ring was on the finger it was ok to come out of the closet with his alcoholism full-bore. I was the wall he smashed into & I haven’t been the same since.

Though divorced since 2004, and in therapy since then, there are some residuals that aren’t going to go away over-night. Anxiety, is obviously one of them, since it’s now a big part of who I am. Insecurity is another, because of his lies, his actions, his infidelities. Fear, that this marriage will also fail.

In session with the Reverend, he mentioned that this would become an issue eventually. Be it right away or down the road, these types of events and emotions do not just “go-away”; especially since my Fiancè and I do not cohabitate. I sat in session thinking to myself that I was passed all of that, but apparently I’m not. If I was I wouldn’t be feeling the way I do now. I would instead be excited and elated and on cloud 9! (though I am, there is the under-lying that I am speaking about).

According to the Reverend, my Fiancees “job” is to just see me through it and understand that it’s not personal and not a reflection of him, I am just reacting to a past behavior. Now, had I not been in therapy I would think it’s total BS, but it’s not. He’s right. None of this falls on my Fiancè, it’s my issue, he just needs to be my support while I go through it. In my pre-therapy days I would think it’s HIS fault that I feel the way I do. That HE’S not loving me properly or what-have-you. No, such is not the case.

My job now is to try to relate my feelings to what I have gone through, not what I’m going to go through. That transition and awareness is very hard, especially once life starts moving full-speed-ahead again; right now we are in the pre-wedding holding pattern. Once the honeymoon and dopamine rush is finished is when my awareness will have to be on point. I think we will have to have a code word or something lol.

Who knows though, this could all be pre-wedding jitters. I never thought I would experience it, but I guess I am in a minor way not related to “our” relationship per se.

The Panic Attack Saga Continues...

Well it happened..

A panic attack..

I don’t know what triggered it, why it triggered it, how it triggered it, but it happened – 4 times on Saturday. You can imagine how upset I am about this, if you have ever been unfortunate enough to have one. If you haven’t, consider yourself lucky.

Typically when it happens I’m stuck in traffic. That’s my main trigger, my next trigger are loud confined busy places. If I’m in one of those situations it’s almost guaranteed to happen, so I prepare for it, but this time I had no warning.

This day I was traveling down to Freehold for my hair trail for my wedding day. I knew where I was going, thanks to Google Maps “street view” and my GPS, and I’m familiar with the Freehold/Route 18/Route 537 area. I was making REALLY good time despite the distance I had to travel. It was a gorgeous day too.. highway driving with the sun roof open what could be better?!

I did a time check and I was a good 30 minutes early so I decided to stop at the WAWA on Route 18 and relax and stretch my legs before continuing with the next 10 minutes. I was facebooking via my blackberry and just people watching when it started.. The tingle.. the one that feels like your skin is crawling, you get REAL hot, and almost dizzy, the stomach shifts and well.. it’s time to get moving.

I started back on the road and arrived at my destination 15 minutes early. Screw it, I said, it’s only 15 minutes. I ran the door bell, her sister got me situated in the salon area of the house and I was chilling out with her 2 yr old son looking at his finger paintings when it started to come on again. I ran to the bathroom, got sick, got HOT, so I put both my wrists under ice-cold water and WANTED to lay down on the ice-cold tile floors, but hey I didn’t’ think I should do that in someone’s house lol.

Upon exiting the bathroom I told her sister that I was not feeling OK.. I didn’t want to make anyone nervous, but I had to inform her God-forbid I pass out.. When my hair stylist arrived we made her aware of what was going on, and the cool thing about her was .. SHE’S COOL! she grew up one town over from me, and is married to someone I “should” know (I just haven’t checked my yearbook yet lol) so it helped having someone with whom I had something in common to keep my mind preoccupied. My Matron-of-honor, Jess, finally made it (traffic sucks in NJ) and again, more conversation led to killing the 2nd attack.

Afterward, Jess and I headed to Outback for some salad.. well that ride proved to be the start of attack #3. WHY!!?! I’m on Route 9! I know where I am, I’m with someone I know.. WHY!!!!? I now have no appetite, so I ordered the house salad, plain with nothing in it and an ice-cold class of water oh and the check. We bolted out once we were done and I headed to my house to show my mom my hair. We made a couple of tweaks and viola! I think I have my hair for the day!

I spent some time at home just chilling out and getting my nerves down, left around 730pm to head back up north. Playing it safe, I took 287 to avoid any possible jams on the parkway. I got up to Bridgewater and well, I didn’t quite feel good again, but it didn’t make it to panic stage, thankfully.

It’s now Monday.. I’m wiped out. Yesterday I slept all day, had a massive headache, and just had no desire to do anything. My emotions were so high I cried a lot just to release the pressure. Of course, the brain is going a mile a minute trying to put the puzzle together. What caused it, and why? and will it happen on my big day? on the plane? in Aruba-AGAIN?

People that do not suffer from panic attacks do not understand the thought process that happens after an attack, or multiple attacks. You can easily say “don’t think about it”, but that’s not possible, unfortunately. This is the scariest thing that can happen to someone, and I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. What’s even worse is when it happens when you are alone, it just exasperates it because you are scared something will happen to you and you won’t be able to get help or your loved ones are way too far away to help you.

So if you are ever in public (airports and planes are real good place to witness attacks) and someone starts acting frantic or nervous, you might just need to take a moment and instead of laughing at that person, try and understand, help, or sympathize with them.. it helps knowing someone is helping and not laughing at you. If it had a switch we would all just turn them off and go about our daily lives, but that switch doesn’t exist.

Listening

The Audio book i was listening to is now finished. (For back ground see my previous posts: Reading or Listening &   Reading or Listening II)

I am going to miss this book, and it’s narrator on my commutes back and forth to work.

I enjoyed this book so much that i actually listened to the Author talk about how the book came about after the story was finished. I just couldn’t let it go. Listening to the Author speak about the history of the book, made it that much more fascinating to hear. Normally i don’t like fiction because it is just that, fake, but this story appealed to me because though certain events could not have happened, we all sometimes wish that they did or could. The people were based off of people in his personal life, though maybe not their exact personalities, but.. well, listen for yourself and you will understand.

The emotional roller coaster was awesome. I was first intrigued, than i wanted to cry, and i might have had i not been driving on the highway during a rain storm (Ahhh the angels cried for me! ), anger would set in at times, then a lot of laughter, tears would flow again, laughter and on and on until the end when it all came together. Peace and calm would prevail at the end, then sorrow that the book was finished. I was almost hoping that there was a part 2!! but honestly i don’t think there could be.

“The Shack” is a book (in any format you prefer) that i highly recommend to those of the Christian Faith. If you don’t believe in God this book will not appeal to you because you just won’t understand it. Well… maybe you will, one never knows, it just depends i guess on how open minded you are. I recommend it especially if you have had something profound happen in your life and you just want some peace. It helps with perspective it really does.

I think tomorrow i may just start disk #1 again and try to listen to see if there wasn’t something i didn’t miss. Surely, the element of surprise won’t be there like it was for the last week or so, but maybe I’ll pick up on something. There were quiet a few times i would have to rewind and re-listen to some of the story because i was near a lot of other vehicles and had to pay extreme attention to the roadway, or i would just zone out thinking about something i just heard and mentally compared it to something in my life.

In any event, if you are looking for a light-hearted, life infused, roller coaster of emotion book to listen too or read, pick “The Shack” up. Surely you won’t be disappointed.

Strength in Tragedy

Late last night my phone rang, it was my Mother, crying hysterically on the other end.

She had gone out with her lady friends for their monthly ladies dinner, and when she got home the waterworks started and didn’t stop. So she called me.

Not sure if you remember, but her Fiance (Ken Baker) passed away back in August. She was doing very well for a little while, but lately it’s becoming harder and harder for her to deal with his passing, understandably.

The ladies had gone to one of Mom and Ken’s favorite restaurants and more than 1/2 of the 14 of them ordered Chilean Sea Bass, his favorite. All of that just brought back the emotions i guess, but she managed to keep it together until she was on her way home, and that’s when it all really hit her.

Trying to talk to her on the phone last night was very difficult for me. I wanted to just bust out crying because i could hear the pain she was in. The ony thing i could do was offer her the support and pass on the knowledge i gained from when i was in therapy years ago.  Ironically, everything i was offering to her her temporary counselor had already spoke to her about. (I should charge for this! lol)

Suffering the sudden loss of a loved one is, i guess you can say, is a form of PTSD, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It can take up to 2 years, and longer in some cases, to deal with something of this magnitude. It did for me when i went through my situation back in 2005.

I went through psychological counseling and it was 4 years later that i started medication to help with the physical after effects of the stress. I feel great now. I love both of my doctors and the knowledge i gain from them is what is helping me deal with my Mother now.

Everything happens for a reason i do believe, as previously stated in other posts. Had i not gotten sick 4 years ago i would never be able to assist my Mother now in what she’s going through. Did it suck back then? Oh yeah, it felt like death was around the corner at every moment. But i fought and i beat it and i’m am an insanely stonger person for it.

Mom, everything will be ok. It sucks right now, but it will get better i promise. If it didn’t i wouldn’t be hear right now.

Reading or Listening II

In my original post i mentioned i ordered the audio of “The Shack”. It is certainly keeping me entertained during my commutes. So much to the point that i haven’t had to curse at any driver during listening time! That’s neither her nor there, but anyway.

I just started disc 4 this morning and i have to say this is a very good book. I think for the story to be told in it’s true sense or humor the audio version is probably better because the narrator (Roger Mueller) uses different tongues when talking as a different character, one of which is quite hysterical!

The book started off, as most books do,  informative and setting up everything, then quickly got me upset, but now i’m laughing and confused at the same time. If you ever decide to listen or read you will understand and i don’t want to spoil any part of the book so mums the word.

My opinion, thus far, is that even if you don’t believe deeply in the Catholic or Christian faiths, you should still get this book. I will be sharing this with certain people in my life because it will help with certain things they are/were/will be going through.

As i get deeper in the “book” i will further update on my thoughts.

Respect in Death

Today my Grandmother passed away. This would be my Mom’s Mom and the final Grandparent to pass.

My Grandmother and i weren’t very close. As a child we were, but as the years went by and her personality was understood by the adult me i didn’t really want to be around her that much.

I love my Grandmother don’t get me wrong, but i just couldn’t be near her without getting angry. As with all toxic things in life you just kind of stop being near them for your own sanity. Doesn’t mean i disliked her, i just disliked how she treated and manipulated people.

It really started with the death of her husband, my Grandfather, a man that i loved and adored more than anything in this world besides my own Father. I was very close to him, he taught me how to spell when we would go pick my Grandmother up from work. Foodtown was the first word i spelled; it was on the trucks in the lot next door to where she worked. He taught me how to play tic-tac-toe. He took me for walks passed the Edison Lighthouse to the statue that overlooked the train tracks so we could watch the trains together. He took me fishing when i was just a tiny child. I caught trout and sunnies! I had so many wonderful memories of my Grandfather.

When he became ill with dimensia it broke my heart. He didn’t know who i was anymore. When i would come over to have dinner with them he would refer to me as his daughter’s name (my Mom). I wouldn’t show how upset i was, but when i left i would cry my eyes out. It just pained me to see him dying slowly, and my Grandmother talking down to him like he could help his condition. That’s when it started for me; when i started to look at her differently.

When my Grandfather passed away on January 2, 2004 it broke my heart. What ripped my heart out was how his death was handled by my Grandmother. She basically threw him out with the trash. No service, no wake, no nothing.. she just cremated him. Didn’t tell us Grand children so we can pay our final respects no nothing. That is when the resentment started.

I tried to understand why she did it, pain, sorrow, anger, but it never made sense to me. When the weather warmed we (my Aunt and us Grandchildren) decided to allow his ashes to drift into the waters of the park in which he served as a park attendant before he retired. The park that he took me to to fish for the first time, the park we used to feed the ducks at, the park that i now walk in after work to feel close to him and meditate to him when life gets a little hard.

I still have a tiny bit of his remains in the receptacle in which they put him after cremation. He sits above my computer desk watching over me. I will never discard of him like my Grandmother did.

Since his passing, my Grandmother sold their home and moved into an assisted living facility where she would remain until she had to go to Hospice about a month ago, where she died today.

During her stay there she managed to manipulate her own daughter on too many occasions to count when she would need to travel across country to see HER daughter at college. So many times i had to check on her on my Aunt’s behalf because my G-ma would claim she was too ill for her to leave.. I would get there and she would be completely fine. That’s when i stopped visiting all together.

Eventually the phone calls would die down too because when i did call she would bust my chops and manipulate me and make me feel guilty for not calling more often. I wanted to, but she would make me so angry with all of the past manipulations with everyone else. As my Mother taught me, if you have nothing nice to say; don’t say anything at all.

That is where i left things with her until she went into the hospital a couple of months ago. I put all my anger and grudges aside to see her since we knew it wasn’t going to be long now.

In that time though, my Mom’s Fiance’ passed away suddenly, and i was left with the task of helping my Mother through her dark time. My Grandmother had a stroke anyway and couldn’t remember who i was, so as guilty as i felt i didn’t lose sleep at night because i didn’t come see her while she was at Hospice. My mom was my concern, and still is.

When the e-mail finally came from my Aunt today i really had no emotion. I’m not sad, i’m not happy, i’m not angry. I guess you could say i’m relieved that she is no longer suffering in her hell here on Earth, and that God accepts her into his world.

Goodbye Grandma. May you rest in peace finally. I’m sorry i didn’t visit you after your move to Hospice, but I will see you at the ceremony, say hi to Grandpa for me.

Pay it Forward

Before i get started on this post i have to mention that some weird things have been happening lately.

The other day the term “Procrastination” came to mind and some time that day a blog that i was reading, by a fitness trainers that i idol, brought that subject up as well.

Yesterday i was thinking about the State Trooper that was involved in our Governor’s car accident a while back, and yesterday evening i was at the grocery store and he was on the front page of the newspaper.

Wednesday i went to the big box bulk store and purchased a trunk full of cereal for my Church. Today the movie “Pay it Forward” was on HBO.

Craziness i tell ya!

I watched “Pay it Forward” again for the hundredth time today. I love Kevin Spacey for one, and two, it just fit into the way i was feeling this week.

I’ve always been a giving person. In fact, I’d rather give than receive because it makes me feel better knowing that person is happy. I always look for that opportunity, as long as it’s not compromising my integrity and my financial well-being. So what’s 50 dollars to feed some hungry people? Not much, but that thought that they will eat a healthy breakfast cereal as opposed to junk, or worse.. garbage, humbles me.

Now that the Thanksgiving season is upon us, it’s time to collect for the food pantries and local shelters. I’m lucky as sometimes my company sponsors a drop box, my Mom’s company sponsors a huge drop-off and they even have competitions internally with which floor can get the most food and or gift certs to the local grocery stores (there are 12 floors so the competition is fierce!). This year I’m blessed that my Church is a drop center, and i am looking forward to clipping coupons and getting two for one deals to make my drop-off bigger and better this year.

We have a lot of people out of work, a lot of families on the brink of starvation and collapse. I am doing ok in this economy; so what’s a few bucks to help out those that have less than nothing?

When i joined this Church just a few short months ago, the Reverend told my FH and I that they don’t ask for monthly monetary donations. They ask that you help out in other ways, like volunteering etc. I’m a very shy person so volunteering with things that i know nothing about is not something my anxiety levels can handle at this point in my wedding planning life. I decided instead to donate what i can and that is what they need. They need cereal so i went out and bought what i could afford. They will need for their food pantry in a month or so and i will help out there too. If they needed help weeding the property i can do that in the blink of an eye, but i think they have a landscaping company do that stuff!

The bottom line is: every day we breathe on this Earth we do it for ourselves. Why not give someone else a breathe of fresh air for a moment so they can breathe too? That doesn’t mean you have to go out and spend your last dime on food/clothing/gifts etc. It can easily be done when sitting in traffic and letting a person into a lane or out of a parking lot. Bagging your own groceries instead of having the cashier do it for you which will make the line for others move quicker. Seeing someone behind you with a ton of kids (or not) that has 2 items and you have a cart full, move aside and let them go ahead of you. Smile at someone that needs it, or just simply say “Good Morning” to  a stranger passing by! The possibilities are endless and mostly there are no costs involved. It’s simply being a nice and courteous person.

The concept of the movie is touching, and the world would be a better place should we all have that mantality, but let’s face it. Coming from a metrolpolitan area i know all too well that 90% of the people living in it are living it for themselves, that’s why there is so much crime and murder around here. So us other 10% need to do something to help, even if it is those doing all of those bad things.. that’s ok who am i to judge? i just want to be judged correctly when i get to the pearly gates.

Blink of an Eye

Life can change in the blink of an eye. A job can be lost, a job can be gained, relationships start and end suddenly, families brought together and torn apart, all within a blink of an eye. Never are these things foreseen or prepared for.

No one expects tragedy to knock on their door, if they did it really wouldn’t be a tragedy would it? Our family lost my Mom’s Fiance’ almost 3 weeks ago. When the news came i was so shocked it took 30 good minutes for me to understand what just happened. I cried on and off for days, helped my Mom through the wake and Funeral, and continue to be a sounding board and someone to talk to and do things with until the sudden shock of it subsides and she can continue with life on her own.

I always see these types of stories on the news, and i always think to myself  “WOW! that poor family how do they manage life now with that type of pain?” I guess i now know.

That made my morning commute a solemn one once i reached work. I witnessed the clean up of a really bad accident. I would be surprised if anyone survived it, and hope and pray that if they did they don’t live life like a vegetable.

My building is situated in an industrial complex off of a 4 lane road to which the entrance sits directly across the complex across the 4 lane. Speed limit is 50, but mostly everyone does 60+, myself included. Once i turned onto the 4 lane from the highway, i noticed A LOT of emergency vehicles ahead. I saw what appeared to be a Boar’s Head box truck up a curb being pulled back by a tow truck.

I had to make a left to cross the 4 lane, so i waited for on coming traffic to pass. This gave me time to observe the scene, and what i saw almost brought me to tears. A late 90′s Teal Ford Explorer was t-boned by said truck up the curb and into a poll and bushes. I would be surprised if anyone survived that. The truck was literally smaller than my car now, and the driver’s side was now outside of the passenger side that’s how crushed it was. I pulled across the 4 lane and stopped on my road. I was going to take a picture, like all of us camera phone junkies do, but i couldn’t. Somewhere a family was being notified that their loved one(s) had a tragic accident, and i immediately thought back to the phone call my mother gave me the day her Fiance’ died. They need their privacy, and the respect, not the media frenzy and the shock and awe photos to be blasted in blogs and on Facebook.

I made the sign of the cross, said a real quick prayer and headed to work.