It is never my intention to offend or hurt anyone with my writing. It is simply an outlet to express my opinions, raw emotion, and reactions to current events. Well, I caught a little backlash with my last post so I figured a blanket apology is in order. And, this one is a little lighter.
If you noticed, I mentioned that the day Jacob Wetterling went missing, I was 6 days old. That means my birthday was just over a week ago. It was not an intentional mention to get a few spare "happy birthday" well-wishes, just a fact that put in perspective the feelings my mother has explained to me over the years with that tragedy that struck our community and, ultimately, changed America's way of handling missing children cases.
Tonight, while chatting with someone I know (friend is a good label), he made this comment that got me thinking: birthdays are just so different once you get over twenty one! And ya know what? He is SO right!! On my birthday, actually, he asked me how old i was and my answer was a little snide (aren't you shocked??): Old enough to know better, but young enough to try it anyways. Not because I didn't want him to know, but because the number just isn't as important anymore.....
Think back: Imagine the first birthday you can think of. How old were you? The number doesn't matter now, but i'm betting you told EVERYONE how old you were going to be. And what kind of party you were going to have. And how many friends you were going to invite. And what you wanted for presents. Those were the things to think about!
And the milestone birthdays, oh man!! You turn:
5 = School! Sidenote: does anyone else think it's hilariously cruel how excited we used to be for school and how much we loved it, until about junior high when our "favorite subject" was lunch?? And at that point, we were lucky if we were half-way done with our education....
10 = double digits!
13 = TEENager!
15 = learners' permit
16 = DRIVER'S LICENSE!! Maybe even a car? Which mom crashes 3 months later... The time around my milestone birthdays all kinda sucked =\
17 = Donating blood [This was a BIG deal for me, though I was never legally able to donate blood]
18 = SO MANY! Voting rights, Military enlistment (Hooah!), gambling (if you wish), tobacco (if you're so inclined), no more curfew....
21 = Alcohol (if you choose to indulge outside the comfort of your own home)
25 = I can now rent a car.... That's totally cool, right?!
Then they're just done.... They come fast and furious every year and then *poof* that's it. Like the roadrunner and coyote, the steep drop of the edge of a cliff and now you're an adult. Celebrations are fewer and further between (maybe on the x10 years). Less people notice (unless, like me, you make a week-long celebration out of it... You all know i'm an only child, right? I'm blaming it on that) and even fewer still want to take part in celebrating. The exception here is the group of family and friends that you have that are happy to celebrate all of life's ups (and grieve all of life's downs) with you. But, if we're thinking back to that childhood birthday, even the weird kid who ate crayons would come to your birthday party -- and bring a gift! But once you're done with the milestones, they're just another day.
But my friend countered that point of view with this profound comment (edited for blog grammar rather than texting): It's more about doing something meaningful to you. Spending time with friends. Enjoying solitude. Who IS this guy?! It's like he's reading my minds and texting my thoughts to me. Well, we are both Libras, that could have something to do with it....
Another great point. Now, birthdays are markers of time that passes in your adult life. Another year of making your dreams come true, or of striving to follow them, or of letting go of the past and making the best of right now. Either way, it isn't just another day. Every birthday is a milestone for you. It's your day to celebrate your life or NOT and it's OK to embrace your independence and the idea that not everyone dotes on you. And that's just the way life is as an adult, regardless of where you are on the path.
Something to think about... Or, just more punctuated graffiti!
~A
PS: Thanks, MK, for starting such a random conversation that it inspired me to think and write. I appreciate it!
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Missing
25 years is a long time to wonder.
25 years ago today, a Minnesota family's life was changed forever. Jacob Wetterling was abducted while biking home from a convenience store with his brother and a friend. Their lives and the lives of their families, friends, and community would be changed forever. A search would go on for months, with no success. Years later, his parents continue to tirelessly work to find a shred of something that they could grasp on to and at least have an answer over what had happened to their son. A 25-year search for closure.
I was 6 days old when this happened. I remember hearing my mother tell me (several years later) about the thoughts that went through her head, having such a young baby when tragedy struck small-town Minnesota. She had brought a daughter into the world with a naive sense of security and hope for good in the world. And, just days later, the world had proven her wrong. It was supposed to be safe to let your kids play together in the neighborhood and only worry about how many scrapes and bruises they'd have when they came home; not to watch out the window worrying whether your child would be the next one to vanish. It was supposed to be just fine to let the kids run around the neighborhood, as long as they went with a group; parents shouldn't have to worry if their child would be the targeted one out of their group. As a kid it was supposed to feel like home in the cul-de-sac playing with friends until the street lights came on, a city-run built-in alarm clock that told us it was time to come home and clean up for supper; not to feel the need to question any stranger that roamed into our neighborhood or feel uneasy if our own adult neighbors looked at us a little too long or a little too often. Raising a child in Minnesota was supposed to be the epitome of the American dream; that's what my mother had thought the entire time she had waited to start a family.
Jacob Wetterling was the first child abduction that adults from that time can remember remaining unsolved. Minnesota had failed my mother. On a much larger scale, our home-grown community had failed the Wetterlings. We, as a state, as a community, as a support circle, had no answers. Yes, for a short time groups banded together and searched all the logical places - and the illogical ones, I'm sure. All unsuccessful.
Eventually, the headlines changed. Life moved on for everyone, the Wetterlings included. Their life took on a new purpose. They started the Jacob Wetterling Foundation and worked towards the passing of the Jacob Wetterling Act. They continued to raise their other son, the last family member to see Jacob. Life moved on for their community; that convenience store is a veterinarian clinic now. Life moved on for Minnesota. And life moved on for my mother. She stayed in her home state and raised me the best way she knew how - the way her mother had raised her - and adapted to the ever-changing times. She accepted the fact that you can't protect your child from all the bad in the world, and it would be doing them a great disservice to try. When she became a single parent, she spent extra time ensuring safeguards were in place at my school in the event she couldn't be there to pick me up herself. When I became a latch-key kid, she bought me a cell phone at an unreasonably young age so I would always be able to reach out for help. All of these things were to ensure that everyone was comfortable with life's situations; all of these things would have been unnecessary. But Minnesota had failed.
The other day, I saw this:
Then I overheard someone utter the unthinkable words: Why don't they just give up and move on already? She shouldn't be waiting around for her son to turn up.....
And it solidified my thought that Minnesota has failed its parents. Minnesotans have failed each other. How dare you, complete stranger, judge a woman based on her inability and unwillingness to "give up" on her child?! How dare you, uninvolved party, suggest that a mother "move on" from grieving the loss of her son?!
But, you know what? She was right..... Patty Wetterling shouldn't be waiting for her son to show up, she should know where he is and where he has been for the last 25 years. She shouldn't be hoping for a phone call that Jacob has been found, she should be hoping for a phone call that her grandchild is about to be born, or has lost a first tooth. She shouldn't be wondering if today will be the day the police show up at her door with devastating news; she should be surprised by her sons showing up unannounced to tell her of a wedding in the works. She shouldn't be home wondering if she'll ever see her son again, she should be looking forward to Sunday night where, on her calendar, it's marked "Jacob& Trevor come for supper".
They say it takes a village to raise a child. For 25 years, when it comes to giving our parents peace of mind for their children's safety, Minnesota has failed. But I was born and raised here and I KNOW WE CAN DO BETTER. Because I have no intention of leaving, and I have every intention of raising a family here. Knowing that my community will have my back.
~A
25 years ago today, a Minnesota family's life was changed forever. Jacob Wetterling was abducted while biking home from a convenience store with his brother and a friend. Their lives and the lives of their families, friends, and community would be changed forever. A search would go on for months, with no success. Years later, his parents continue to tirelessly work to find a shred of something that they could grasp on to and at least have an answer over what had happened to their son. A 25-year search for closure.
I was 6 days old when this happened. I remember hearing my mother tell me (several years later) about the thoughts that went through her head, having such a young baby when tragedy struck small-town Minnesota. She had brought a daughter into the world with a naive sense of security and hope for good in the world. And, just days later, the world had proven her wrong. It was supposed to be safe to let your kids play together in the neighborhood and only worry about how many scrapes and bruises they'd have when they came home; not to watch out the window worrying whether your child would be the next one to vanish. It was supposed to be just fine to let the kids run around the neighborhood, as long as they went with a group; parents shouldn't have to worry if their child would be the targeted one out of their group. As a kid it was supposed to feel like home in the cul-de-sac playing with friends until the street lights came on, a city-run built-in alarm clock that told us it was time to come home and clean up for supper; not to feel the need to question any stranger that roamed into our neighborhood or feel uneasy if our own adult neighbors looked at us a little too long or a little too often. Raising a child in Minnesota was supposed to be the epitome of the American dream; that's what my mother had thought the entire time she had waited to start a family.
Jacob Wetterling was the first child abduction that adults from that time can remember remaining unsolved. Minnesota had failed my mother. On a much larger scale, our home-grown community had failed the Wetterlings. We, as a state, as a community, as a support circle, had no answers. Yes, for a short time groups banded together and searched all the logical places - and the illogical ones, I'm sure. All unsuccessful.
Eventually, the headlines changed. Life moved on for everyone, the Wetterlings included. Their life took on a new purpose. They started the Jacob Wetterling Foundation and worked towards the passing of the Jacob Wetterling Act. They continued to raise their other son, the last family member to see Jacob. Life moved on for their community; that convenience store is a veterinarian clinic now. Life moved on for Minnesota. And life moved on for my mother. She stayed in her home state and raised me the best way she knew how - the way her mother had raised her - and adapted to the ever-changing times. She accepted the fact that you can't protect your child from all the bad in the world, and it would be doing them a great disservice to try. When she became a single parent, she spent extra time ensuring safeguards were in place at my school in the event she couldn't be there to pick me up herself. When I became a latch-key kid, she bought me a cell phone at an unreasonably young age so I would always be able to reach out for help. All of these things were to ensure that everyone was comfortable with life's situations; all of these things would have been unnecessary. But Minnesota had failed.
The other day, I saw this:
 |
| Source: Lamar Advertising |
Then I overheard someone utter the unthinkable words: Why don't they just give up and move on already? She shouldn't be waiting around for her son to turn up.....
And it solidified my thought that Minnesota has failed its parents. Minnesotans have failed each other. How dare you, complete stranger, judge a woman based on her inability and unwillingness to "give up" on her child?! How dare you, uninvolved party, suggest that a mother "move on" from grieving the loss of her son?!
But, you know what? She was right..... Patty Wetterling shouldn't be waiting for her son to show up, she should know where he is and where he has been for the last 25 years. She shouldn't be hoping for a phone call that Jacob has been found, she should be hoping for a phone call that her grandchild is about to be born, or has lost a first tooth. She shouldn't be wondering if today will be the day the police show up at her door with devastating news; she should be surprised by her sons showing up unannounced to tell her of a wedding in the works. She shouldn't be home wondering if she'll ever see her son again, she should be looking forward to Sunday night where, on her calendar, it's marked "Jacob& Trevor come for supper".
They say it takes a village to raise a child. For 25 years, when it comes to giving our parents peace of mind for their children's safety, Minnesota has failed. But I was born and raised here and I KNOW WE CAN DO BETTER. Because I have no intention of leaving, and I have every intention of raising a family here. Knowing that my community will have my back.
~A
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