To be human is to be beautifully flawed ~ October Baby
On my drive into work today, the sports radio I normally listen to was interrupted by silence. A bell rang 26 times in memory of each life lost at Sandy Hook Elementary School in Newtown, Connecticut. Time seemed to stand still. I lost track of where I was on the road. My mind went someplace else.
Strangely enough, it was a good place. My thoughts did not go where a madman with a gun—or the evil force that drove him—wanted me to go. Instead, I thought of what makes us good. I thought of the heroic actions of the teachers and the principal on that horrible day. I thought of the poise, strength and grace being shown by the victims’ families and the random acts of kindness emerging across this great country.
I also thought of a letter written by a soldier in Vietnam.
The letter, cast in bronze, sits along the Chesapeake Bay in Norfolk, Virginia. It’s one of several seemingly scattered about like the wind had randomly dropped them at the water’s edge. In it, the soldier promises his wife that when they reunite, there will be no more wasted moments; that even when they just sit together and do nothing, he will treasure that time like never before. It was written one month before his death.
Because we are human, we are flawed. We often take our eye off the dwindling sand in our own hour glass. I suppose a young man at war facing the threat of death each day has a perspective you and I do not. Yet, we can read his words and insert them into our own lives. We can vow to fully embrace the people around us. We can hold dear the time we have left. We can promise to rid ourselves of wasted moments.
If only we could better express our desire to live better—to be better. If only we could write down our greatest fears, cast them in bronze and scatter them about. Then we would see that we’re not so different; that we’re all in this together.
We’re all human.