Shards of Glass, Broken Dreams and Picking Up The Pieces of a Shattered Life

My husband and I were jolted out of our reverie yesterday evening by the news of the death of an acquaintance of ours, a very promising bluesman in Memphis by the name of Corey Osborn. We had seen Corey perform on numerous occasions, had numerous friends in common, and his death came as a shock to us. You see, Corey was only 23. Corey had been driving on an unfinished part of Tennessee Highway 385, and was found dead at the scene. His vehicle had rolled several times before coming to rest in the opposite direction of where he was headed... home from work. He had just called his parents to let them know he was driving home, but never made it. Visitation is tomorrow from 5pm to 7pm. God rest him.

I suppose it was fitting then today, when I did something stupid (like trying to open a window in the office) and knocked over my grandfather's coffee mug and the lamp on my desk. Both were broken in the process. It seemed to be a message for me. I worked feverishly gluing the mug back together, and when completed, it only vaguely resembled the keepsake I remember seeing in my grandfather's hands so many times and that I fought so hard to save. Oh, it still looks like a mug, but it looks like it has been through a war. It will never hold anything in it again, but will remain dear to me nonetheless and will be up safely out of reach on a shelf, in a place of honor.

Looking at the mug made me think of the hearts of Cory's parents, Scott and Lisa Osborn, shattered beyond belief, and never again to be the same. They too are battered and broken, and will gradually glue their hearts back together, but they will keep their memories of their beloved son safely tucked inside, and will somehow find the strength to hold together.

It also made me think of my own family... that of my brothers and sisters and my parents, my grandparents, aunts and uncles, and cousins that, in all likelihood, I will never see again. It's saddening. Somehow you all go on, and forge your own lives after someone disappears from view, but I wonder sometimes if anyone feels the loss of family the way I do. I lost a great portion of my family at a young age, and although I haven't written about it and, won't in a public forum, it still plays an enormous role in my life today.

With the passing of my father last month, it closed a chapter for me. I suppose all the cleaning out of my house has something to do with purging my soul. My husband and sons have told me "you never get rid of anything". I'm doing so now. It's not that I don't love the family I grew up with or cherish some of the things I'm forced to live without... but that's just it... I have to live without. But... age brings maturity (I hope) and with that maturity may come acceptance. I certainly hope so. I'd hate to have to live with shattered hopes and dreams like Corey's parents. We all have to learn to let go.

Nazdrovie'

Paczki Puta