A shitty good day

           Yesterday was a good day... but it was one of the shittiest good days I have ever had. It will be logged away with that handful of other days that were also shitty but good.

I would never say I had a bad day... because every day that I am allowed to walk this earth is a damn good day. But alas some of those good days have sucked a bit.

My family and I have a running streak of "Almost" Tragedies. Those times where our very existence is in jeopardy but somehow we come out on our feet. I would qualify our most recent tragedies as: 

1. The day my husband was in an ATV accident and was helicoptered to Hartford Hospital, with a bleeding puncture wound to his one and only kidney. He spent nearly a month in the hospital ( 2 weeks in ICU)... but he made it. Just an "Almost" tragedy.

2. The day our windows were blown out of our corner apartment in a huge wind & rain storm. A sudden crack at 4am, caused Max (my husband and I) to jump from our bed with such fright that I dislocated my right shoulder. Screaming to my oldest son to run to closet and trying desperately to grab my youngest from the crib with one working arm, the blasts from the windows were a terrifying notification that we have no control over our mortality. The whole event cost us a few nights in a hotel and a good many of our belongings.... but in the end, it was only an,  "almost" tragedy. 

AND THEN THERE WAS YESTERDAY

Once the day was over and I was able to read the news I saw that we had never been in any danger... but thats not the way it seemed. In my mind and in the mind of my children who experienced it.... it will also go down as a day never to be forgotten.

IT STARTED OUT LIKE THIS...


A day full of errands: school shopping, hair cuts, groceries, etc..etc..

I had chosen to do our groceries in at the Walmart in Springfield, MA. It was close to enfield where we had picked up some school clothes and a new pair of flipflops for myself (to replace the ones I melted under the fire pit last week). Grocery shopping was the normal.." don't touch things", "put that back", "Sit down on your but", stop jumping on the cart".... & ......" FOR THE LOVE OF GOD NOOOOOOO...YOU CANNOT HAVE POP TARTS!!!" You know.. the normal shit when you are trying to get what you need with an 8 and 2 year old boy.

Anyhow, we were down to the last few items and I was double checking the list when I noticed someone yelling at the front of the store, ( we were at the back but I had a direct line of site to the entry). Others began noticing the commotion as well and slowly everyone stopped and attempted to decipher what was happening. At first I thought, a fight maybe??? Some crazy person causing a scene????

AND THATS WHEN...

The people up front started screaming.... they began running towards us and shouting for us to run. Women were shouting for their children frantically... and employees were crying as they yelled for there comrades. I realized very quickly that something was VERY wrong........

no longer was I concerned that there was a fight.... my mind quickly jumped to.." NO NO NO...holy shit... this is really happening...!!!!" While shouting to my oldest son Taylor ( 8 years old) to "RUN .... JUST GO...RUN!!!!!!!", I desperately tried to grab Dorian (2 years old) from the shopping cart. His foot was stuck... and I became so scared at the delay. I very consciously decided to yank harder. I mean who cares about a broken foot if we are about to get shot up. I yanked him from the cart with all my might and ran... we quickly found an "employees only" door and ran through it, my Taylor was a few feet ahead. People were running scattered and pushing. My relief that the door was not locked was followed quickly by the fear that the door was not lockable and offered us no protection. In my mind I envisioned the end of our lives.... being gunned down.... holding my boys so tight. This fear filled me with propulsion and Sooo we kept running.... through the fire door... out to the back of the store. 

We crossed the back parking lot and ran into the field... the grasses were tall but not tall enough to hide in. I stopped for a moment to assess the situation. 2 hispanic women were close by, one of which was hysterically crying and screaming in spanish as she was looking back towards the store. She had gotten separated from her children and wanted to go back for them... the other women was dragging her further away in a desperation....she was crying too. All around us people kept running, scattering into the woods.  I knew the only thing I could do, was get as far away as fast as possible..... at the very least.... get my kids as far away ....as fast as possible. I still had no idea what was happening. I hadn't heard a gun shots, perhaps it was a hostage situation, or a bomb maybe.... I don't know how far shrapnel flies or how big explosions are. With Taylor staring at me waiting for direction.... I yelled for him to RUN... and I followed close behind with Dorian in my arms.

We ran into the woods and found a shoddy dirt path to follow. Once people figured out there was a path they began to follow us. All I could think was, " If there is someone meaning to cause us harm, they are going to go in the same direction as the herd, we have to get off this path".  I could see a small ravine through the woods and shouted for Taylor to get off the path and go down. He stopped and looked at me "BUT MOM... there's no path...Im scared....!!!" He started to tear up, " MOM....Im so scared!!". Im not sure if it was the right thing to do but I stopped for a brief second and grabbed him very hard..." I know your scared.... but you can't fall apart right now... there is now time for crying.... only running..... DO YOU HEAR ME..... JUST RUNNING... now go down!" He took a breath, wiped his eyes and proceeded down the hill. Together we waded through the Knee deep mud, with no time to retrieve my shoes which got stuck at the bottom and went back up the side. Many people stayed on the path..... but a few followed us. To be honest, I was comforted that we weren't completely alone. 

My arms were tired and my stamina defeated, I put Dorian down and dragged him along holding hands. He too lost his shoes. Taylor, seeing that I was exhausting... picked up his brother and carried him. We proceeded to push through the branches and make our own path, until we finally came running out of the woods into a neighborhood. We screamed to some men who were painting a house to call 911. There were about 10 of us who breeched the woods in this spot and I can't imagine what the men thought... but they immediately called 911 and tried to be helpful.

I felt safe

On the phone with the police they told me that there had been a car parked in front of the building that appeared to have had a bomb and it coincided with a very recent bomb threat. He directed us to walk to the primary road and once the bomb squad gave us permission we would be allowed to retrieve our car.

The walk back by road was approximately a mile. We were very shook up and the silence was deafening.... as most people know... little boys are rarely silent.

I was trying not to step on glass on the Springfield streets and let out a curse when I caught a piece between my toes. Taylor immediately grabbed my arm and with the deepest concern  asked "momma are you okay?". I replied "Ofcourse I am okay, I have you boys, no little piece of glass can take away how happy I am that you are safe". Taylor stopped and hugged his brother and  looked me in eye and said .... " You are my mom, I trust you..... I really.. really.. really trust you and I am thankful you were here with us". I hugged him sooooooo tight.....sometimes there just aren't any words....

We made it back just in time for the bomb squad to clear the scene. I never bothered to go back for our groceries... or my list... or my coupons. Taylor made me promise that we would never go in there again. I thought it a reasonable request and will uphold that promise with ease. 

As it turns out, It was not a bomb... It was a customer who had illegally parked on the curb, whos car had in plain site: 4 propane tanks, an unlabeled jug of liquid and a bunch of electronic devices.

So in the end, It was not even an "almost" tragedy.... but to us it was terrifying and traumatic.... 

I am an existentialist at heart... I am always aware of fleeting mortality. Sometimes I catch slack for that and often people don't relate to the choices I make. I have often been perceived as irresponsible. I have very little regard for future planning and don't care much to live up to the traditional notions of success. My life is filled with the ever present awareness that nothing is guaranteed and you can lose it all in a moment.  My life is not going to be a tragedy.... no matter how many " almost" tragedies that come my way. Each one has taught me about how to value my existence. I believe that when I pray at night and I ask god to help me always remember to live my life with passion and love, he hears me. He teaches me in the most unconventional ways, but I've always been someone that has to learn the hard way. In the end... I know he's got my back. 

Thats why despite being muddied and scratched up, with glass in my feet, I had a new pair of flip flops in the back of the car. I mean.... who melts there flip flops on a a fire pit? 

You might say...someone who is entirely irresponsible. I say someone who spent their last few bucks on weekend beers, staying up too late and talking about life with the people she loves. Someone who needed new shoes in the back of the car at just the right time.

Thats why... even the shittiest days.. are good days.