It’s hard not to be thinking about the kids at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School. The victims and their families. I raised teenagers. It wasn’t always easy. My heart goes out to the parents who were frustrated with their kid that morning. The ones who said something unnecessary, something that flew out of their mouths when they thought it didn’t matter. The ones that believed they had a lifetime to make it right, but now, can never take it back.
We watched the movie Three Billboards outside Ebbing, Missouri a few days ago and one scene continues to resonate. In the aftermath of this tragedy, it haunts me.
I’m going to tell you now, so if you are anti-spoilers of any kind, skip ahead. It’s not a huge scene, barely two lines revealed in momentary flashback, but WOW, intense. Okay, here goes–
The mother and daughter are arguing over the car. She’s a “typical mom” and she’s a “typical teenager”. At the end of a heated exchange, the daughter stomps out of the kitchen screaming, “I hope I get raped!” and the mother replies “I hope you get raped, too!”
Neither means it. It’s a heat of the moment stupid thing to say. But, the daughter does get raped. And murdered. And the mother has to live with those words being the last she said.
Spouses, parents, kids, co-workers, bosses, teachers, etc…Relationships can be a challenge.
Life can be a challenge.
I don’t expect every exchange to be sunshine and roses.
Every parting to be overflowing with I love you’s.
But we need to practice not being so angry all the time.
Can we do that?
Can we try?
I don’t want you to live each day as if it’s your last–nobody’s needs the additional stress of that hanging over their heads.
We’ve all experienced regrets from a tragedy of our own.
I want the things that you wished you’d have done or said before it was too late to become habit while there’s still time. Something you do without thinking. An acquired behavior. Can you imagine?
Do your best today.
Do your best until you can’t not do your best.
Do your best today, because tomorrow is never promised.
Ever since the dark moments of 9/11, I have tried to say “I love you” every time my kids and husband leave home. Sometimes I fail. I hope I never have words to regret.
Good for you, Barb! And great for them, too.