Saturday, June 11, 2011

strawberries, jazz and shrapnel

The first time we went to the local strawberry jazz festival they had a pet costume contest.  We wanted to borrow our friends dog who has almost mirror image markings as Angus, but alas Leftie was busy for the day and one blues brother just isn't winning material.  Curse that tea cup Chihuahua!

This past Sunday was the strawberry jazz festival, and David and his juggling partner, the duo known as "Rave and Dave" performed for the second year in a row.  From what i hear they had a good crowd.  I wouldn't know because I had to work, like i do every Sunday.  Its probably for the best.  I would have spent the whole time thinking about last year's strawberry jazz festival, an event, in a long line of many, that will mark a new kind of milestone in our lives as parents of a baby in heaven.  

Last years strawberry jazz festival was the first time we really took Gideon anywhere.  A few days earlier I had a conversation with the hospice doctor about taking Gideon out.  Dr. Murphy encouraged us to remember that the "bug" that claimed Gideon's life could be anywhere, and was just as likely to be brought too us as we would bring Gideon to it.  "Live" he suggested.  Make memories with your son, maybe not for him, but for you. 

So last year we went to the Strawberry Jazz festival so Gideon could hear his daddy make people laugh.

This year, it was an event that reminded me I live a life fraught with emotional land mines.  Sometimes i see them coming and at least attempt to protect others (and maybe myself) from the blast.  Most of the time they come of nowhere and my poor co-workers/friends/family and even sometimes random strangers have to dodge the shrapnel. 

I think Dr. Murphy's advice still holds, Landminds, bugs, shrapnel.  You can't hold up in your house forever.