It felt so good to write here yesterday, I thought I’d squeeze in another post, in lieu of a shower though so maybe that’s not such good news for the people who interact with me in person.
But, for those of you who have written asking if I finally succumbed to the temptation of sticking my head in the oven during my long cyber-silence, this ought to be a good sign.
And, by the way, that whole oven thing? Mostly a joke because I use inappropriate humor as a coping tool, hey, it beats drugs, right? See, I can’t help myself .
Also, mine’s an electric oven, so the joke would ultimately be on me.
Yesterday I was amazed at the way technology plays such a critical role in how I do my job in ways that I never dreamed of last time I had this gig.
A decade ago, I had a cell phone but it was at the coast and rarely charged – so between those two factors – totally pointless.
Yesterday I was on a field trip with a group of fifth-graders touring the local landfill. I was on the school bus when my editor texted me that we needed a story in the paper, due later that afternoon.
The story was about a young man named Cody Myers who was murdered a year ago by two sick-twist psychopath white supremacists monsters.
Actually, the story was about the foundation that’s been formed since his death by his family in order to continue his vision of providing children who couldn’t afford them musical instruments, and lessons.
I followed the Myers’ story very closely last year, it was when I was still a stay at home mom writing my monthly column. It struck a chord deep within me that these worries of mine with little ones are a blessing compared to those I will face when they are old enough to, like, leave my field of vision.
One night, on deadline this column came to me, truly channeled from beyond myself.
(click title to read, if you’d like).
Anyway, in that column I mentioned Cody’s mom as she was in my heart so much as I followed the story. I’ve often thought of her and Cody’s story as a way of bringing myself back to a place of grace despite the madness around me.
For the story on a tight deadline, it was tempting to just stick to the basic facts of the benefit concert: October 21, noon to midnight, Trails End in Oregon City … but it means so much more in context doesn’t it?
So I used our archives and Facebook posts to put as much of it together as I could while praying for the chance to talk with the right person for the story.
An hour before the story was due, I got the opportunity to talk with Cody’s mom who was gracious with her time and in sharing such a painful story, but also she said it is good to have her son remembered.
I know I am only one of many who never even met him, and yet will never forget him, or his story.