Day 11 & 12: Don't Hate the Kindness, Hate the Player

If you haven't noticed, it is difficult for me to get a blog in on a Friday night.  Well, to be fair, it's difficult for me to get a blog in on any night, but I buckle down because I don't want to disappoint the masses (ie; my mother) waiting to read the latest.  By Friday, however, I'm all like "Why don't you just write a blog Mom/the masses?  All this kindness makes me want to paint my nails and watch The West Wing."

So, my apologies for not writing... but, we did have an action packed Day 11 and 12.  For starters, I watched Annalee's friend from school because the kids had the day off from school, but her mother is a teacher, so she spent the day with us.  This may seem like no big deal, but when you have five kids home as it is, an extra child means that we have to take TWO vehicles because our family maxes out the van all by itself.  

I had an appointment with Jaylen's physical therapist at the Strong Museum of Play, so Tom brought all the rest of the kids shortly after and we had a great time.  

We raced cars...

And climbed walls...

And shopped for sushi...

The second kindness of the day was that my sweet children each brought a dollar of their own money to give to other kids so they could ride the carousel. 

The kids with their dollars.

It was adorable that A) none of them thought twice about using their own money.  (Well, maybe London had a little trouble when it was actually time to fork over the dough, but more on that later.)  B) They were willing to walk up to parents and ask permission to treat their children to a carousel ride. and C) That they didn't burst into tears once, which is what I wanted to do when their sweet, blessed kindness was rejected time and again.

Day 11 epiphany: parents of small children hate kindness.

I am not kidding you, it was so sad.  These poor kids, already looking ridiculous because they were wearing those dumb baker's hats they made for themselves, were dismissed and rejected time and again!  I don't know why, but we discovered that when a group full of children in napkin hats approach a parent who has a toddler in tow, the parent inexplicably and uncontrollably makes the same face.  It's the kind of face you would make if someone threatened to throw acid on your neck, acid that smelled like a fart.  It's a scrunched, skeptical, kinda angry, kinda "that smells farty" kind of a look.  It's very upsetting to see that face more than once in your lifetime, let alone in such a short span of time.  I don't think the children will ever be the same.

Some people said they didn't have time for a carousel ride, some people just said they weren't interested, one guy said "these kids won't go on the carousel, they're so ungrateful they should pay for your kids's ride."  Harper just looked up at him hoping they would just take the stinkin' dollar because he knew that our kids were not allowed to step foot on that carousel until they done their kindness!  It took much longer than expected, and a lot more begging and convincing than we had anticipated, but we got a few weak ones to cave and enjoy a free carousel ride with their child.  London had a little giver's remorse when she had to actually make the hand off, but with the promise of a carousel ride in her future... she begrudgingly went along with it, but I saw just the smallest flash of that tooty-acid look on her face, and something inside me blamed all those parents who hate kindness.

For Day 12, I brought my neighbor a hot, homemade apple crisp fresh out of the oven.  In a previous post, when I blogged about how my husband got laid off, I mentioned these neighbors and my strong desire to smash their car windows in with a shovel.  That's it.  They park in front of my lawn, and Tom lost his job.  I know those two things seem unrelated and that the layoffs weren't directly their fault, but whatever... I can't explain crazy, I just wanted to smash 'em.  

But, for Day 12, I worked through my anger problems and I delivered the crisp.  I felt a little like London handing over that dollar... but, let's face it, as hard as it is to believe, their new company car from an entirely unrelated employer, probably didn't have anything to do with our current unemployment.  I brought the dessert, she actually really appreciated it and she smiled and was nice and she wasn't like the people at the museum at all.  She likes kindness.  It made me feel very guilty for not being kinder, sooner.  

So, here's to days 13-31 and beyond... that we can love our neighbors as ourselves knowing that someone down the street is probably blogging about smashing in our car windows for no reason whatsoever.  

Day 10: Remembering 12/24/12

On Christmas Eve last year, just right around the corner from our home, a nightmare unfolded.  A man killed his own sister, then set his car on fire to lure first responders to the scene.  When they arrived (out of a selfless sense of duty and service to this community), the man began shooting at them.  Some were killed, some injured.  You can read the full USA Today article here: http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2012/12/24/webster-new-york-firefighter-shot/1788917/

Because first responders were being shot at, firefighters were unable to control the fire, and it quickly spread.  By Christmas morning, seven homes had been completely consumed, and children woke up to gifts under the tree from a father who was gone forever.  

Day 10. 

We brought cookies to our local fire department.  Our fire department is one of the few that is 100% volunteers.  Those guys were there that morning and for the following days working alongside the guys from the West Webster Fire Department who had lost some of their beloved brothers.

There was a huge outpouring of support through the holidays, but I know all too well how that support dwindles over time and regular life starts back up for people. This was our way of remembering and honoring those who go in, when everyone else is going out.

Pants and boots, ready to jump in and go. (I am going to start setting up harper's pants like this before school.)

Day 9: #Closure

Okay, it's time to get you all caught up... If you haven't started from the beginning, let's get your act together now.  I'm gonna make it really easy for you.  Here are Days 1-8. Once those are all read, you are welcome to proceed.  I know that felt bossy, but that's because it was bossy, and I don't want to talk about that anymore.

Let's talk about kindness, a much pleasanter topic.  (*Pleasanter is actually a word, I know because I have read Pride and Prejudice one thousand times).  (**Okay, that was a lie.  I've read it twice, but I have watched it one thousand times, both the BBC mini-series and the version starring Keira Knightly.  So please, stop doubting my credibility.)

Anyways, Day 9.  

As most of you already know, I am very passionate about adoption.  I am forthcoming about the beautiful blessing that is adoption, but also the reality that adoption as a concept was born out of tragedy.  The reality that loving homes and families are needed for kids who may otherwise not have one... that is horrifyingly tragic in my opinion.  The reality that biological families are separated, oftentimes never to be reunited, is devastating.  We had hoped for open adoptions for this reason, we hoped to maintain the connections with our boys' birth families because we wanted to play the important role of facilitating whatever relationship would be best for our boys... and we believe that our willingness to remain open and in contact is a gift we are responsible to give our children.

That being said, trans-racial adoption just isn't easy.  It can be hard on adoptive parents, it's hard on adopted children, it can be hard on siblings, birthparents, and extended family.  Adoptive families need a lot of support, and we are so thankful that Bethany Christian Services has been there to offer that much-needed support through both of our adoption journeys.

The staff at BCS has worked their tails off to serve our community.  They counsel women who are considering adoption, they support women who choose to parent, they help line up important resources when expectant parents don't know where to go to get financial or medical assistance.  They train and prepare adoptive families for the hardships of adoption, and weed out all the crazies who have no business adopting a child.  They do background checks, and interviews, and home visits, and they contact lawyers, and apply for grants and subsidies, and they love your baby because he's the cutest.

I mean, generally speaking.

You get the point right?  Adoption case workers are amazing.  At least the ones we know are!  So, for Day 9, we wanted to bless the ladies who blessed our family, stork-style, by making it possible for us to bring our two precious boys into our family via adoption. So, we cut fresh flowers from my garden (please do not be impressed... these were literally the only thing that survived my horrible yard neglect) and we paid the ladies at Bethany Christian Services a visit.  

I chose to celebrate adoption and adoption workers today, because of one young and inspiring woman, named Angela, that I want to introduce to you.  I will let this trailer of her husband's documentary tell you a little more about her...


I first connected with Angela and Bryan Tucker through our common interest in #adoption on instagram.  #thehashtagbroughtustogether.  When I heard that they were trying to show Closure at movie theaters around the country, I begged these strangers to come to Rochester.  I am pretty sure I even offered for them to have a sleepover at my house.  #inappropriate. #creeper #howdidipassthatbackgroundcheck?

Well, to my surprise I succeeded! #holler! For one night only, November 12 at 7:30pm in Webster, NY this amazing documentary will be shown!  I am so excited to see this, and I am really hoping that every last one of you who live in the Rochester area will get on board with today's kindness and will buy a ticket to come!  They need a minimum of 70 people to come, or they will not be able to hold the reservation at the theater.  So for Kindness #2, I am  begging and pleading   demanding  requiring  encouraging you all to consider saving the date and reserving your tickets for this one-night-only event.  It would be a kindness to me and a celebration not only of adoption, but of redemption and closure.  And honestly, that is what these 31 Days of Kindness are all about.  Redemptive grace, and a little healing closure.  So thank you so much for promising me you will go purchase tickets ($9) at their event site immediately.  That was so generous and agreeable of you!  #passivebullyingsometimesworks #bossypants #imnotjokingbuytheticket

Day 8: Planet Kindness

I did not have much of a plan for Day 8, and it started to show when I caught myself thinking, "That was kind, that counts right?"  Low point from Day 8: Resisting the urge to slam on my breaks to punish the maroon Toyota driving so close to my van that he would surely slam into me, and, therefore, learn a lesson.  After exhibiting just the smallest amount of self-restraint in that moment, I thought to myself, "I could have let him just ram right into me, and I didn't.  That's kind right?"  

Needless to say, I started with a pretty lame potpourri of kindness throughout the day.

Kindness #1 - I gave my friend Lexi a free haircut.  I wish I had taken a 'before' picture, but I forgot, so I found one on Google.  I feel pretty good about the accuracy of this as the before photo.  

As you can imagine, it took a kind and loving touch to transform that into this...

Kindness #2 - I opened a little girl's bottle of water at ballet.  (Hey, I told you I had a slow and lame start.)

Kindness #3 - On the way home from ballet, it was getting late and I was starting to panic, so the girls and I rolled down the windows and yelled words of affirmation at strangers we passed.  We yelled things like "I like your hair!" and "Those are great jeans!"  These drive-by compliments literally blessed no one, I am certain.  I know this because I am aware that true words of affirmation have to come from the heart, and are best received when you are needy, vulnerable and insecure.  Where is the one place we all feel that way? 

 Planet Fitness.

Unless you wear those black, lycra capri pants year round, then you are like the rest of us that feel mortified while exercising.  So, I went to Planet Fitness, which is where I (and most people who are too poor or busy or exhausted to be absurdly committed to health and firmness) go to work out.  I wanted to sneak into the ladies' locker room and leave some encouraging reminders that they are doing just fine and that Jesus don't mind a muffin top!  So, here it is, Kindness #4 - a few reminders that us gals need  perpetually and insatiably every now and again.  

Day 7: An Explosion, a Rejection, and Some Very Questionable Bags.

We've got one week down out of our 31 Days of Kindness!  I'm so proud and thankful to those of you who have joined in this week!  I have an idea, let's celebrate by having everything go wrong today!

Oh wait, that already happened.

We kicked off Day 7 by taking apples to the library, and handing them out to the staff and volunteers that so patiently and considerately collect our books, and let's be honest, our fines.  They seemed pleasantly surprised!  There was one lady who "had a lot of dental work done" so she couldn't eat hers.  I'm pretty sure that means she thinks we put razor blades in the apples.  But overall, it was a success.

I think the success got me a little ahead of myself, because when we left the library and saw a girl in a Wegman's uniform presumably walking to work, I maybe got a little too excited.  Marlie and I sprinted across the parking lot to try to catch her and give her an apple and that's when this happened...

The plastic bag we had the apples in spontaneously combusted, which sent the apples spewing all over the land.  I know it sounds a little dramatic to call this an explosion, but if I am exaggerating, then how did this happen??

That is gravel embedded in my apples.

Even after I plucked the shrapnel out of each apple, I was afraid that they would no longer be appealing to strangers.  Sure, only one side was  exploded  a little banged up, but unless you are horse, I don't think you'd want them.

Which got me to thinking... Yes! Horses!  That's the ticket!  

I insisted that we drive to the nearet horse farm and deliver these gravel-free treats to the horses!  The kids were so excited, and we got there and the farmer graciously and heartily accepted the apples and the horses felt loved and we all lived happily ever after.

That, or the horse farmer rejected our apples, and me as a person, I'm pretty sure.  She claimed that they "do not feed their horses by hand" and therefore had no need for our apples.  What!?  How do they feed them?  By robotic arm?  Do they catapult the food over the fence?  Are they zip lining across and dropping little bombs of hay?  And why not apples?  Even if you feed them in a handless manner, is it true that they could have no possible use for apples!?

Okay, admittedly I don't know much about having a horse farm, but I do know that if I ever found myself in a position where I was farming horses and a mother showed up at my farm with five adorable children offering my horses delicious treats, and absolutely could not feed my horses these perfectly razor-blade-and-gravel-less apples, I would eat every last one of them right there on my front porch.  In front of the children.  Cores and all.  Any other response would just be rude.

The starving horse.  Hungry for both apples, and human touch.  Both have been offered tonight, and cruelly denied.

From there, we went to a local park to pick up litter as a family. Upon our arrival, we were disappointed to discover that our town takes pretty good care of our local parks and playgrounds.  After a more thorough look, however, we were pleased to discover that there were plenty of nightmarish gems for us to clean up.  These are just some of the highlights...

Annalee found this "really big water bottle."  And by water, I mean vodka. 

An unexplained pile of tomatoes.

I passed on the picture, but we also found a couple of dime bags with just the tiniest bit of pot at the bottom and two bags full of poop.

The kids actually had a great time doing this, and it beats some of the acts of kindness they have come up with on their own. (London's first act of kindness was "eating a sandwich.") 

So, even though Day 7 was more like "Random Acts of Disaster" as Marlie remarked... I still think that the kids are learning a lot and people are being blessed.  

Horses, though, not so much.

Day 6: Red Rover, Red Rover, Send Tom on Over.

Every day since I started my 31 Days of Kindness, I have been overwhelmed with an outpouring of encouragement, support and kind words shared about my brother.  Yesterday alone I received several messages reiterating what I have always know about Adam, that he was a kind hearted boy, willing to step over the typical social lines in high school, in order to befriend others.  

He did this in the hallways of his school, on the soccer field or the wrestling mat.  He was a hardworking athlete and genuinely loved being part of a team.  His best friends were his teammates, and on the night he was killed, he and his co-captain, were featured in the newspaper for bringing home such a big victory.

The following day, when news of his death had spread, that same picture again made the front page of the paper... but with a very different headline.  

Seeing that picture is bittersweet.  It brings my family joy to see Adam so full of life and excitement in the victory, and it breaks our hearts knowing that these moments were among his last.  

I want to remember Adam this way.  As an athlete.  Healthy, fast, strong.  

For Day 6, I wanted to honor Adam the athlete.  We planned to somehow attach a $5 gift card to the netting of a soccer goal at the varsity field near our house.  The plan was solid, except by the time we got to the field it was after dark and the field was gated and locked.

I insisted/forced Tom to go through with the plan... even though I am pretty sure this was the first time he's ever broken a rule.  But, he mumbled something about being like Robinhood and before I knew it, he was climbing a fence.  He used a tie-wrap to quickly attach the gift card to the net, in just a bit of a panic, as is the case in most first-time B&E cases.  But, it was for the sake of kindness that he put his clean criminal history on the line.  And there you have it, Day 6.

*In the unexpected case that the sirens that passed us moments after we left the field were actually coming after us, we would like to say that the above story is purely anecdotal and is not even true in the slightest.  The photographs may not be used to prove otherwise and/or prosecute us because they have been photoshopped and also we plead the fifth and if necessary, invoke the pirate rule, parlay, as made famous by Captain Jack Sparrow in the Pirates of the Carribean.

Dancing with the Least of These

I fell asleep mid-conversation last night before I ha a chance to post about Day 4, so today will be a b.o.g.o. event... And I think it will be worth the wait.

Day Four: I read on Facebook that some of our very best friends got their pumkins smashed before they even had a chance to carve them.  Paul and Erica, and their three little ones, Macey, Justus and O-Baby O-Theo (it's really just Theo, but that is what London calls him, for no reason whatsoever) were our first friends when we moved to Rochester.  We have gone through so much together, all of the highs and lows of the past six years were spent with this amazing family.

Erica is a quiet servant, she hears of a need, and will quietly try to help.  She sees something that reminds her of someone, and she will buy it and save it for the perfect time. When I saw her post about the kids being bummed... Day Four was easy.

Tom and I were able to deliver new pumkins to the doorstep before the kids got home from school, and they seemed pretty excited. 

Miss Macey

 

Justus

And of course, O-Baby O-Theo

The good news is that purchasing these pumpkins will no longer stress Macey in the financial sense.. So hopefully she can take the weekend off from her home-based business.

For Day Five, it was sort of a potpourri of kindness.  I gave apples to some friends, including our hard working garbage man.  He was really, really surprised and thankful.  

In addition to the apples, I spent an hour and a half taking to my elderly neighbor about old World War II stories.  He told me what the weather was like during the battle of the bulge, and described what he saw at Buchenwald when they liberated Jewish and Polish prisoners, including the mentally ill that we're forced to brutally kill other Jews before they were sent to the crematorium.

The stories were horrific.  And being around Mr. Al, in General is quite challenging.  But, everyone needs to tell their story and he is no exception.  

For my last kindness of the day, I am going to share a special gift with the greater Buffallo, NY region.  The gift of my sweet dance moves.  

Adam always loved to dance, and yesterday an old aquaintence of his shared a beautiful story with me that I had never heard.  She wrote this:

When I was 15, I went to the freshman dance in the cafeteria in the Jr High. I was awkward and very shy. I spent most of the evening hiding in the bathroom and hoping it would just be over. I ended up going out to the dance floor. I didn't know Adam, but I recognized him. He was there all by himself. Amazing! A 14 year old boy at a dance by himself! ( I went with a group of girl friends). I asked if he wanted to dance. He said sure! Before we got a chance, my friend cut in. It was funny the first time, but she did it repeatedly all night long and I never did get to dance with this nice boy. Well, as I was walking down the hall after the dance, I met up with Adam. My friend was no where in sight. I mentioned that to him, just as a joke. He stopped right there and we danced! Just for a few moments. No music, no cafeteria, who cares who saw.

What a special special brother you have! I don't know of any boy that age that would do such a sweet thing. I was always taught that there are angels on earth. I have repeated this story to people many times and there is no doubt in my mind that he was an angel.

That, my friends, was who my brother was.  He didn't care if you were the garbage man, the oldest, grumpiest man alive, or the shyest girl in school... He was a kind and loving friend to all.  So, tonight, I shall dance.  My limbs will flail in directions that don't make any sense, and I will forcefully lead the conga line with participants that are barely willing.  I will do it with great joy, knowing the from heaven, my brother is not dancing alone, but he is getting down with his Heavenly Father and that is one party that just don't stop.

Day 3: Do Not Leave Your Books Unattended

For those of you just joining us, welcome, here is your homework: Day 1 and Day 2.  Now that we are all on the same page, there is something you should probably know... especially if you are planning to join in on all the kindness.  Here it is: kindness scares people.  Now, I'm not saying people don't appreciate acts of kindness, and I would certainly never discourage the kindness!  I am simply stating a fact.  And the fact is that people are very skeptical of random kindnesses.  Last year, I had a whole group of people waiting for a bus reject my donut holes (which were still sealed in a store bought package, mind you, so the rejection was not a sanitary decision which I could have understood and appreciated).  They looked at me like I was trying to give them donut holes laced with meth.  Or hair.

Anyways, people do not trust a gal just handing out perfectly sanitary breakfast pastries, it's just something we all need to accept.  It makes it awkward, sure, but it also makes it even better when someone is blessed by somebody with no strings attached, and slowly they realize that it is not a hidden camera show, or a trap of some sort, but it is, in fact... kindness.

That being said, today's act of kindness was a little on the awkward side.  Now, you newer readers may not know this but my husband was laid off about 3 months ago, and I make almost zero dollars a year, and we have five children, so it goes without saying that we have had to tighten our belt a little.  And by a little, I mean we ate our belt for dinner because we are so poor.  Okay, that was maybe a touch dramatic.  In reality, we are fine.  We're being very frugal and wise and we are learning to go without everything but the necessities, and that is really hard, but very good.  However, I am going to need you to keep all this in mind this month because my acts of service need to cost little to NO money.  I already blew my budget on sugar-free candies for the boys, so it's gotta be Random Acts of Cheapness from here on out.  Enter Day 3.

I love to read, and obviously, I love to write.  I still remember my brother giving me To Kill a Mockingbird, which remains to this day, my favorite book of all time.  Adam was also a voracious reader, and an excellent writer.  He received an award for an essay he wrote on tolerance, and he was the editor-in-chief of an award-winning school newspaper, and if I remember correctly... he had a brief stint in high school being pen-pals with famous author, Ken Follett.

A love for reading and writing is one of my favorite ways that I feel similar to Adam.  So, it seemed fitting (and free) to take some books from my own collection and give them away.  I decided to leave them around, on park benches, at playgrounds, on the gas pump.  I left little notes, like these, so that people knew that someone hadn't just left it behind on accident.

Here's how it got awkward.  If you walk up to a playground, without any children, you already seem like there is at least a chance that you are a registered sex offender.  And with that little cloud of suspicion already around you, one might think it unwise to put an item on a park bench and then slowly leave without saying anything.  Seriously, in hindsight, it was a very terroristy thing to do.  If I was pushing my kid on the swings and I saw that happen, I would definitely think that the book was a small bomb that had been marinating in anthrax.

Fortunately nobody called the bio-terrorist unit, and that's good enough for me.  I am just happy that I could share with some strangers the love of books, and hopefully it will bring a little joy into someone's day and make them fall in love with reading the way Adam and I did.  And if that dream is a little too lofty, at least nobody got anthrax, which is a win for everyone.

Forever Seventeen

I woke up this morning with an act of kindness planned for day two.  I decided to put that plan on hold when I received this picture.

Along with so many of my fantastic friends and family members, my friend Brandi and her husband Danny have committed to participating in our challenge this month.  Brandi works at a boarding school on the north shore of Boston that is specifically for students with dyslexia who come from all over the world. Brandi sent me a message this morning saying that after reading my post from Day One she had been feeling very emotional when her reading students came in and she was struck by the fact that each of her students was, in fact, a 17 year old boy.  

Like Adam, one of these boys is a soccer player who was telling Brandi about his game last night. The realization of these kids' ages and interests prompted a desire to share Adam's story with her students.  As the boys listened to her tell them about how a young life, so similar to their own, was cut short in the blink of an eye, they too were moved with emotion.  To Brandi's surprise, the boys didn't just listen, but they responded... by agreeing to join in with us this month, intentionally committing 31 acts of kindness for the 31 days of October.

I don't know if this will make any sense to anyone... but the fact that there are a couple of 17 year old kids running around Boston, blessing people with kindness is truly the most hilarious and healing image in my mind!  My heart is so full, and it was such a blessing to be able to call my mom this morning and let her know that her son is still impacting lives for good.  What that does for a mama who has lost her son... they don't realize it, but that was their first act of kindness.

So, for day two, my new favorite 17 year old boys are gettin' candy.  

I have zero in common with 17 year old boys (except maybe body type, if they're gangly and awkward)

so I wasn't sure what to send them.  I heard that any kind of junk food is a good idea, so I filled a box with all things high fructose corn syrup.  *If any of you boys have a peanut allergy, spoiler alert, this is not going to go well for you.  I also threw in an unnecessary amount of sugar-free hard candies, which are essentially garbage, but are something I often remember Adam eating.  As a wrestler always trying to "make weight," he would eat those disgusting candies all the time, and get ridiculously upset if... sayyyy... someone like a little sister hid all those candies for no particular reason.

I included a letter thanking them, and telling them a little more about my brother and his candies, and how much this means to our family that my brother's "peers" would be involved in honoring his memory, because Adam is, after all, forever seventeen.

Day 1: Life.

I can't believe that it has already been a full year since I told the story about my brother, Adam.  I started with the story of his death, and spent the rest of the month trying to share and honor the story his life.  And here I am again.  Day one.

Below is the original post, because I think it is important to start at the beginning, and because I want all the new readers to understand why I am spending another October choosing to celebrate and honor life, rather than being consumed by death...

In loving memory of my big brother. 

--

I am going to tell you a story.

I haven't done this before, told this story, so detailed and so publicly.  But, I am going to try something big this month, and I think I need to tell this story in order to do it well.  So, here goes nothin...

It was Halloween night many years ago, and my 17 year old brother, Adam H. Provencal, was driving home from the Regional Championship Soccer game.  He was a senior in high school and the captain of the soccer team, and this victory was worth celebrating, and it was news worth spreading for our small Michigan town.

When my brother (and his friend Mike) were driving home and passed some of their friends out playing some harmless Halloween pranks, it was the perfect time to spread the news.  So Adam pulled the car over and was telling his friends about the big victory.  I have no idea what my brother was thinking or feeling in that moment but, my guess, is freedom.  I imagine a boy - crazy about sports, working so hard to maintain his 4.0 GPA in mostly advanced placement classes, editor-in-chief of the nationally recognized school paper, and all-around nice guy - and the pressure that that brings on a kid.  I imagine him in this moment, and the hard work (for now) is done and has paid off with a regional championship.  And he's free.  He is young and free, and he wants to tell to his friends.

So, he pulls over and he and his friends are joking around and talking and hanging out, and they are young and free in this moment.

The whimsical youth of the moment ends when a homeowner comes out and is irate about the pranks and, though my brother had not been involved in them, he had the car and perhaps that made him seem to be the ringleader somehow.  I don't really know if that was why Adam felt the need to go to the door or not, but he did.  He decided he would walk up to the door, to apologize for being there and to offer to clean up the toilet paper in the yard, and he no longer felt young and free.  He was probably terrified that he was going to get in trouble.  So, he dutifully walked up to the man's door and knocked twice.

The man did not open the door and hear him out, he did not yell at Adam to leave, he did not call the police. When my 17 year old brother knocked on the door that night to have a hard conversation, he had a baby face and scrawny limbs and braces in his mouth.  And when Adam knocked twice on that door, the man gave no warning before he pulled the trigger of his shotgun, sending one, single bullet through the small window of his front door.

One bullet.

One bullet changed many lives, some lives even devastated.  But only one life was ended.  My only brother, my parents only son, my hero, my friend... the only person strong enough to jump on a trampoline with me on his shoulders, and the boy who led me to Christ, and taught me to dance like M.C. Hammer, and to be funny enough to joke my way out of trouble.  He was gone.

His murderer was in and then out of jail after only two years, for a boy's life taken in a rage over some harmless pranks.

Needless to say, when October rolls around I get stuck.  It is almost like my body involuntarily braces for a trauma.  The crisp fall air, the smell of leaves and bonfires... they are all beautiful reminders of fall, and nightmarish triggers that put my physical and emotional self on high alert, tragedy-ready.

So, here we are, heading into the 31 days of October, and I am 31 years old... outliving my big brother by 14 years.  I need to do something.  I need to be productive and I need to spend these 31 days focusing outwardly, or I will implode with my seasonal misery and depression.  So, I accepted a challenge, a plan designed to get out of my head and focus on other people.  31 days of kindness toward others.

I have no idea what this 31 day challenge is going to teach me.  And I have very little faith in my ability to stick with this.  So, this is me going on public record promising to let these next 31 days not be all about me, and all about memories and sadness and lost life.  Rather, I want to commit myself to honor all the good Adam would have done if his life had not been cut short.  I wanted to be just like him when I grew up.  Well, here is my chance... 31 is pretty grown up, so here goes nothing.

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For my first act of kindness this year, I created and donated some custom-made hair pieces and costume pieces to a local ballet ministry appropriately named "The Life Ballet," which shares a message of life and healing to millions of men and women who suffer in silence in the aftermath of having chosen to have an abortion.  

The Life Ballet was written and created by Sandy Arena, who shares her personal story of having had two abortions herself, and has since devoted her life to helping women recover from the devastating effects many women experience after having an abortion.  Sandy and her amazing family have poured themselves into a mission that does not judge or condemn women for their choice but, rather, helps them find freedom, forgiveness and healing.

Being able to support Sandy and the dancers in The Life Ballet is kind of a perfect day one, because this month of kindness is about the same thing... finding freedom, forgiveness and healing.