You Can Be Anything!

Today my son had his soccer tournament.  He's 8.  Most of the time, the kids are chasing the ball for a bit, and then standing waiting for it to come to them.    It's quite comical to watch, really.  Over the past few weeks, I've seen such improvement in our team.  I've seen the kids grow with each other, become great team players.  I've seen fantastic passes, great defense, I've seen them overcome frustration when they played a stacked team, over and over again.  This one team, the dreaded yellow team, was rumoured to have a few 11 year old boys on the team.  This team is the under 9.  NINE.  but, because some kids want to play with their friends, they're allowed on the team.  Our team was killed by the yellow kids more than once, and boy were they getting frustrated.  Defeated.  Saddened.  At one point my son said he didn't want to play soccer again.  It didn't continue to be fun for him.  How could it when all you do is get beat up by the opposite team.

Well, last Thursday night, a fire lit under their little feet.  They lost again to that yellow team, but they found something better.  They found they had courage, drive, will.  They didn't give up.  My son is a bigger kid.  He learned he could play great defense, and charge the kids coming at him and every time he won, got the ball from that kid that was coming at him.  He felt powerful.  He felt important.

Today, during the tournament, they won one game and lost their other.  It's the end of the outdoor season, but my son has excitedly asked to be signed up for indoor soccer again this fall/winter.  I have a feeling in my gut he could become great.  He asked me if he could be a professional soccer player, and when I said he could be anything in the world, he said "well, when I'm a professional soccer player and I'm playing all over the world, I will get you tickets for free so you can come and watch me."  God I love him. 

I wouldn't miss it for the world!

When The World Hurts

I have an image in my head.  It's stuck there, because someone posted it on the internet, and it ended up in my facebook timeline and I saw it.  I wish I could unsee it.  It is SO sad, so heartbreaking. 

The picture shows a baby doll, laying beside a foil blanket, under which lies a poor innocent child who was run down and killed.  Killed by some asshole person who thinks, well, who the hell knows what he thinks.  He killed, 84 I believe is the number now, innocent people, including many children in Nice, France.  He drove his truck through a crowd of people, people who were celebrating, having fun, laughing.  Then, it turned to screams, fear, terror, gunshots.   They killed him dead.   I'm so glad they shot that bastard dead.

But I can't unsee that picture.


I can't stop thinking about that picture.

I can't stop thinking about the sadness, the anger, the fear, the terror.  WHY did this happen?  Why do bad, horrible things continue to happen. 

I hate it.  I hate that the world is a scary place.  I hate that NO WHERE is safe.  Not one place is safe.  This was a tourist area.   A place for fun, for making memories, for joyous laughter, smiles and love.

We need the love.

I try though to remember a quote I read online one day...

"When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping." — Mister Rogers

I am a helper. 

My coworkers are helpers, my friends are helpers.  For 17  years I have been a helper.    Let's all be helpers and let's make this world a better place.

Shootings. Blood. Sadness. Tears. FEAR.

I fear that one day, in my job, I will be the subject of an ambush of some crazed lunatic with a gun.  I fear that I will not come home to see my children.  I fear that my boys will grow up without their mother.

This past week there have been numerous news reports with regards to shootings in the states.  It seems like an every day occurrence down there.  I don't understand why.  I don't understand why people, SNIPERS, would hide out, during a "peaceful protest" and shoot officers there to protect them.  I don't get it. 

Years ago, and I mean more than 10 years ago, a person called for help, the officer arrived and then he was shot dead.  My coworkers had to also respond to that call, now to try and save the life of the shot officer.  It was too late, he was dead.   Apparently this person had had plans to shoot to kill any more cops who arrived, but he was stopped, thankfully.  As paramedics, we wear black uniforms too, or dark blue, but still, they're dark (probably to hide the blood, or coffee stains), so we are often mistaken for police officers.  We are often yelled at for coming to help someone, until they realize we are paramedics.  Why the hate for the police is beyond me.  They have a job to do, just like the rest of us.

It's not a job I would want, but I have many friends that I have made over the past 17 years who are.  I know they will protect me in my time of need.    But still,, I worry.  I worry that one day I wont come home.

Lets stop the hate.