Sunday was a seventeenth anniversary. It was a day denoting sadness and loss more than happiness or celebration.
It was the seventeenth anniversary of the crash that took my baby girl from me and changed the course of my family’s life.
Every year around May 5, life changes happen. The days grow longer. The nights are more mellow and sultry. Rains cleanse the world and launder all the surfaces a man can detect in his world. But it fails to soften a heart damaged and scarred by circumstances beyond his control. Depression deepens.
“Circumstances beyond his control”; a strange series of words because we believe if we plan enough, control enough and take actions strong enough and wise enough we can prevent anything.
That’s a sadly spoken and more sadly realized lie. Circumstances can remove any preparation’s efficacy from your control. People drink and drive. People die in the crashes caused by drunks. The victims can do it all right: they can drive at the limit, wear their seatbelts, be ever watchful for the coming dangers and still be slaughtered because the drunk wanted to have one more drink before hitting the road.
Then, there are the mistakes we make because we’re too lazy to complete the safety checks and preparations necessary to assure the equipment we handle is in proper working order and condition. That “check-engine” light may indicate you must service a piece of equipment or a system keeps the vehicle in safe-operative condition: but you ignore it. You choose not to service it because of the cost, the time consumption or the simple laziness you feel at most moments you’re not working or engaged in some other “productive” endeavor.
When the system fails or the part gives out; you crash. You’re injured, another person is hurt, the car is destroyed and the concept of “penny wise and pound foolish” comes into play. You’re in worse circumstances than you would have been if you’d simply taken the time and effort to fix the problem before it got out of hand. More than you alone can be affected. But, you can rest assured somebody will suffer some sense of loss and endless inconvenience.
In Louisiana and America in general we’re seeing the beginnings of the loss we’ll suffer if we don’t recognize our responsibilities to care for our state and country. We, in the quest for success we call life, aren’t being mindful of the responsibilities we share. We haven’t watched for the signs of a government turning its back on us while the people we put in place to protect us and address our needs enrich themselves with self-serving legislation making it harder and harder to bring our government back into alignment with the Constitution and Bill of Rights. We’re losing control of our destiny because of laziness, poor observational skills and the lack of preparedness necessary to assure those we place in power don’t abuse it.
All signs are in plain sight. They’re in the open to be viewed, inspected, recognized and addressed. We must control government to prevent the level of regret and loss sure to come when the entire governmental process either collapses in on itself or is destroyed from without because of the rampant greed and lust for political power our representatives hold so dear.
People will always cluck their tongues and say:”This is America. That can’t happen here!”
But, it can. And, it is. Progressive political agenda are noted for gradual and continual changes. The modifications are slow and inexorable. The changes, over time, take on the power and force of water. It appears safe and placid in the lagoon and lulls the unsuspecting into accepting it as always being soft, pliable and yielding.
Then, when the ocean floor quakes, water becomes a force unto itself. Its power increases hundreds-fold. The tsunami comes ashore killing all not recognizing its power until it’s too late. That’s the effect of not seeing what can happen if we blind ourselves to what’s going on.
My child died because of some circumstances I couldn’t control and others I could have controlled but didn’t.
Don’t let this happen to our country.
Thanks for listening