I can't stop thinking about the Humboldt Bronco hockey team. You heard about the bus crash right? The team was heading to their playoff hockey game when they collided with a semi, killing 15 people and injuring everyone else on board. I'm just devastated for the families, the friends, the girlfriends, the community.
My son plays baseball. He's played since he was 5 years old. I send him away to games all the time. I send him on buses and shuttles and in other people's cars. He's on the road a lot. And that's not going to stop anytime soon. He's going to keep playing baseball, going further in his career, and continue to put his life in other people's hands for every away game. But I guess that's what we all do every single day, isn't it? Anytime we get behind the wheel of our car, or in the passenger seat of someone else's... or hell, whenever we walk down the street.
Our safety isn't a guarantee, I think we all know that, but God does this reminder of that simple fact ever hurt.
I think the second a tragedy like this occurs, we parents put ourselves in the situation. We immediately think, it could have been us. It could have been my kid, my team, my community. I could be the one grieving right now, trying to find my balance and struggling for a sliver of light in what most likely feels like unending darkness. You can't help it. You can't help but think about it- the what if's- the painful attempt to relate to what those parents must be feeling or going through when in reality, you simply can't.
And then there's the sort of ugly side of life... when you breathe out a little extra- thankful that it wasn't your kid, your team, or your community. And it's a fucked up thing to say out loud, I know, but it's true. Our heart breaks with all of those who have lost their child, but it also beats out with gratefulness at what we still get to have and hold. You feel gutted for their loss, yet thankful that it wasn't yours. It's brutal, but it doesn't make it any less true.
These boys were just heading to a playoff game for the sport that they loved. On a bus they probably traveled on a thousand times before. On a road they'd probably drove on a million times before. The only loss anyone even considered would be the one at the game that night- because let's face it, one of the teams had to lose.
But this... this loss was too great. This wasn't what anyone meant.
If there is anything to be grateful for at all in this horrific tragedy, it's that they didn't go alone. Even in death, they still have eachother. Teammates forever. But it still really fucking sucks.
If you can find it in your wallet to donate to the families, the link is below. If you can't donate yourself, maybe you can share this link instead.
https://ca.gofundme.com/funds-for-humboldt-broncos
My son plays baseball. He's played since he was 5 years old. I send him away to games all the time. I send him on buses and shuttles and in other people's cars. He's on the road a lot. And that's not going to stop anytime soon. He's going to keep playing baseball, going further in his career, and continue to put his life in other people's hands for every away game. But I guess that's what we all do every single day, isn't it? Anytime we get behind the wheel of our car, or in the passenger seat of someone else's... or hell, whenever we walk down the street.
Our safety isn't a guarantee, I think we all know that, but God does this reminder of that simple fact ever hurt.
I think the second a tragedy like this occurs, we parents put ourselves in the situation. We immediately think, it could have been us. It could have been my kid, my team, my community. I could be the one grieving right now, trying to find my balance and struggling for a sliver of light in what most likely feels like unending darkness. You can't help it. You can't help but think about it- the what if's- the painful attempt to relate to what those parents must be feeling or going through when in reality, you simply can't.
And then there's the sort of ugly side of life... when you breathe out a little extra- thankful that it wasn't your kid, your team, or your community. And it's a fucked up thing to say out loud, I know, but it's true. Our heart breaks with all of those who have lost their child, but it also beats out with gratefulness at what we still get to have and hold. You feel gutted for their loss, yet thankful that it wasn't yours. It's brutal, but it doesn't make it any less true.
These boys were just heading to a playoff game for the sport that they loved. On a bus they probably traveled on a thousand times before. On a road they'd probably drove on a million times before. The only loss anyone even considered would be the one at the game that night- because let's face it, one of the teams had to lose.
But this... this loss was too great. This wasn't what anyone meant.
If there is anything to be grateful for at all in this horrific tragedy, it's that they didn't go alone. Even in death, they still have eachother. Teammates forever. But it still really fucking sucks.
If you can find it in your wallet to donate to the families, the link is below. If you can't donate yourself, maybe you can share this link instead.
https://ca.gofundme.com/funds-for-humboldt-broncos
