“…it’s a goofy thing but I just gotta say, hey, I’m doing alright.”

Jackson Taylor - Four years old and less of a baby than I was! (photo by me)

Jackson Taylor - Four years old and less of a baby than I was! (Photo by me)

This is about me.  Because, ultimately, no matter who you are, it’s always about you, right?  😉

Besides, Tru did such a fabulous job detailing the day, I didn’t think I needed to re-invent the wheel.

I had my purse stolen last Thursday.  I wrote about it briefly here.  What I didn’t write about was how it made me feel.  I went from being okay with it, to being mad, to being so upset I had a brief period when I couldn’t stop crying, to being frightened, to being mad again.  I don’t usually wallow in self-pity, but Thursday night I sure did.  I had spent the last month doing something for others.  Collecting donations for the Taylor family to ensure that their stay in Boston didn’t break their bank.  And I didn’t ask for anything in return.  Not one thing.  So the way I was repaid was to have a huge chunk of my life stolen from me just before what had worked out to be a very important weekend in my life.  I was not only pissed at the jackass who stole my purse, but at karma, or God or whoever (or whatever) you believe controls the universe.  What the hell was the point of the last month if I wasn’t even going to be able to buy Tru a beer for all he had done?

Normally, at times when this happens, I’m able to snap myself out of it and say “It could have been worse – so many people have worse things happen to them every day”, but not this time.  Thursday night through early Friday afternoon, I was a bear.  I promise you, you didn’t want to be around me.  There was a part of me that could step back, see how I was and say “Cut the crap” but the rest of me wasn’t listening.  Then to top it off, I had to leave work early (after having blown an entire afternoon the day before canceling credit and debit cards and filing a police report) to go spend a day with strangers and friends and pretend to be in a good mood.  If there was a dog in my office on Friday, I most likely would have kicked it.

But there was no dog, just my friend and co-worker Jill, and she succeeded in (at the very least) calming me down enough that I was ready to meet Tru and KellyO and Brenken and the Taylors (and, later, some of my sistahs and other friends for a group game organized by my friend Dale)  and embark on the evening.  And what an evening it turned out to be!

When I met up with Tru, he immediately pulled out an envelope and handed it to me.  It was from Commander Tom Disy of the USS BENFOLD.  Along with all he sent along for the Taylors, he stuck a surprise in there for me as well.  A lovely note, accompanied by his “command coin” and a USS BENFOLD cap.  I was awestruck.  In an instant, the reasons behind the last month came rushing back to me.  Here is a guy halfway across the world going out of his way to make people feel special and here I was being a crabapple.  It was more than a little embarrassing.  And the rest of the day and evening went pretty much the same way.

Tru touched upon the generosity of the folks at the Yawkey Way Store and elsewhere that day.  People were just amazing.  And had been all month.  As I mentioned last night, we received donations for as much as $200 and as little as $5.  There were so many people who were happy to scrape up what little they had to make a difference in the lives of the Taylor family, without even knowing them, that it still boggles my mind.

The generosity of strangers and my friends (KellyO had a long week as well and as the “official photographer” for the day, had no time to do anything but just shoot the family and be great!  Brenken rushed over the same day she flew in from Florida to ensure the boys were properly ready for the adventure!)  would have been enough, but then we met Stan Grossfeld.  Stan donated a book he published with Dan Shaughnessy (and both men personally inscribed it for the family) to the “booty” of gifts for the Taylors.  He then spent the day as one of us.  Someone in awe of what can happen when good people want it to – and he absolutely won over the boys that day as well.  Stan will tell you differently, but he’s a special person.  Not just out for a story, but there to witness life-changing events more for the sake of witnessing them than for any kind of personal gain.  Google his name and you’ll find some incredible photographs and some beautiful stories.  It was an honor to be able to ‘hang’ with him for the day.

So what about me?  Well, I know I’m blessed to have the loved ones (family AND friends) that I have.  It was also a blessing to have been chosen to be a part of this event.  I’m a better person for having met Stan Grossfeld, Tom Disy and all of the Taylors in the process.  After a day of hugging and crying (about something and someone other than myself), I still had to go home to my life.  I still felt lousy about what had happened to me.  But, and I know this is the biggest cliché there is, it put things into perspective for me.  So what if I had to let people buy me a couple of beers at a baseball game?  So what if I had to borrow money to get home from those same games?  By the end of the week, I should have my debit and credit cards and driver’s license replaced and my life goes back to normal.

I’m battered but not bruised.  And much more humbled and appreciative of everything I have than I was on Thursday night.

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