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Lindsay Metcalf
on Jun 19 2013 - 06:00 AM
My top five most important moments of the summer so far
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mara williams
on Jun 18 2013 - 06:00 AM
Hey, manchild, mama says: clean your room, wash the dishes, don't drink and drive.
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Emily Parnell
on Jun 16 2013 - 06:00 AM
Eating fresh, local produce is good for body and soul
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Jim Cosgrove
on Jun 13 2013 - 06:00 AM
I just want to buy some pants. Please, turn down the music.
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Sometimes my need to strike up conversations with total strangers can be totally annoying. I mean, it can extend a 15-minute shopping trip to 30. Or it could leave my husband standing there, silently cursing my name and the moment I simply said, “Hi, have you been here before?”
But on Saturday, in downtown Olathe as thousands of people were trying to get a good seat, or standing place, for the Old Settler’s parade, I started a conversation that will probably be with me the rest of my life. Husband’s life too.
“Do you know, is this the start of the parade?”
Simple enough question to a woman sitting in a lawn chair at an intersection on Cedar Street.
“I think so,” she said smiling. “I think it starts just down there.”
Then we were off and talking. About the parade, how many people were there. She’s from Olathe. Hadn’t been to the parade for years. She was waiting for family to join her. And I, in the way that I always do, worried about being in her way. We kind of just barged our way in so youngest could get some candy and we could get a good view of oldest in his high school band.
“No, you’re OK,” she said. “My grandson is in a wheelchair, and I’m saving a spot for him with that chair right there.”
She’s so nice, I just keep talking and asking questions. Her grandson (and his parents, of course) lives in Belton.
“Oh, do they come to this parade every year?” I ask.
And this is when this conversation became something I will never forget. She became someone I won’t forget.
“No,” she said. “My grandson is terminal." She went on to explain the specifics of the very rare disease he had which was attacking his brain, leaving his body gradually less able to function as more of his brain was affected.
"We want him to see as much as he can," she continued. "… He’ll be blind soon.”
And when the disease had affected enough of his brain, she said, he'd be gone.
I stood there so thankful I was wearing sunglasses. Tears trickled down my face. I looked over at my husband, who often has trouble hearing in large crowds, and knew by his look that he was hearing everything.
Her grandson is 4 and he was diagnosed with this terminal disease when he was 2 ½. His family doesn't want to know how long he has, she said.
They just make every day matter.
They want him to see everything. They want him to enjoy everything while he can.
This parade was among the many things the family goes to.
I try to concentrate on my youngest, who’s hoping the parade starts soon. He wants some candy. I forget about the birthday party we have to get him to in 30 minutes and no longer worry if we’re going to be late because we’re waiting for his older brother to march by.
And wasn’t it just 20 minutes earlier when I was freaking out in our house, ranting about how everything was a mess, and why do we live like pigs?
I look at my husband and know he’s thinking the same thing.
Here is this lovely woman, holding a spot at a parade for her grandson who she knows won’t ever get to be in a marching band, or ride a bike in a parade.
I suddenly start to look at this parade differently. It’s no longer something I have to fit in before a birthday party. Within a few minutes, as the police officers drive by on their motorcylces, I'll be dancing with the bands, clapping at the floats. Basically, looking at the parade through the eyes of a kid.
When youngest makes his way to the side of the road and I have to follow, I want to stay talking to the woman, who by now has told me that The Star wrote a story on her grandson and the family’s trip an organization sent them on. I can’t wait to go home and read it (we were on vacation when it ran, and I never saw it).
The parade started. Youngest got some candy and proclaimed, “I love parades.”
Meanwhile, I kept looking back at the empty lawn chair holding a spot for a little boy. Finally, I see the crowd move to the side and the little boy was pushed to the curb.
I look down at one of the cutest little boys, with long dark curls. He’s smiling, so happy to be there.
Right then, a float went by by with a little Clifford dog on it.
He smiled, he bounced his head.
The tears came down again. I look at husband and he sees the same thing.
Five minutes later, oldest marched by. He somehow saw me in the flood of people and smiled. The birthday party started 20 minutes ago (something that would typically send me over the edge) but I hated leaving the parade. And the little boy. Before walking past him, I looked down and he smiled wide.
I talked to his grandma and his mom a little bit before we leave. What strong people, I think. No way am I strong like that.
Husband tells me on the way back to the car that he didn’t see oldest, didn’t see much of anything. Except the little boy. All he could think about what the story the grandma told.
I still haven’t looked up the story The Star did about the little boy. I’ll need some time when I can just soak it all in.
But I will say, husband and I haven’t stopped thinking about him and his family, especially his grandma who wanted to make sure he had the best seat for the parade.
Isn’t it amazing the people you can meet when you strike up a conversation with a stranger?
Beautiful writing... it is amazing how a conversation can change your whole lookout on life. This story reminded me of a poem/story that was included in the program for a young boy's funeral. It helps answer the question of why? http://www.cafemom.com/journals/read/452055/The_Brave_Little_Soul_by_John_AlessiThat was simply beautiful. What a perspective shift. Don't you love moments like that, where you really, really appreciate the small AND the big things in your life? And that boy and his family probably have no idea the gift they've given to you, and everyone who reads this story.Laura - what can I say - I am Tadan's grandmother that you talked to on Saturday, I read this site every Monday and sign my daughter up for the giveaways. Tadan had a great time at the parade, we played games and had a great day. Thank you for the wonderful story, it is amazing, you so beautiful to write these words. Thank you, bless you Cindy Atterbury aka Mema of Tadan
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