Sunday, April 8, 2018

God Bless the Humboldt Broncos

This morning as on all Sunday mornings, Jude and I awoke at 6:30 a.m. to the sounds of Joe restlessly and noisily going through his wakeup routine.  He wakes up like an old man - stretching, grunting and groaning - as he prepares to begin another day in the life of a 6 year old.

Within minutes, he walks into J.P.'s room to see if he is up.  Then, we hear them talking quietly.  Last but not least, he calls to Jude through the baby monitor we've kept in his room so we know what's going on upstairs with the boys, "Mom?  Can I get up?"  Of course, he's already up.  She replies, "sure, come on down."

We hear the pitter patter of feet upstairs - Joe's - J.P.'s morning routine is much quieter - and the boys suddenly appear in the doorway of our bedroom, as if by magic.

When I think about, it is like magic, in a way, that in the midst of our busy lives and of all that I have going on with my mom, God has blessed me at 51 years old with two healthy, happy and active boys. Magic, for sure.

What I'm thinking about this morning, as I finish my latte at the Frothy Monkey before the Sunday morning rush, is that there are 15 sets of parents in Humboldt, Saskatchewan, who will never get to hear their boys wake up again in the morning.  This, after a tragic bus crash killed 15 boys on the Humboldt Broncos, a junior hockey team with a long and storied tradition in the small town of Humboldt.

I can't begin to fathom how those parents feel this morning.  It's simply beyond my comprehension and, hopefully, it always will be.  To say my thoughts and prayers are with those families and that community is very obviously an understatement.  I think every parent has those families in their thoughts and prayers this morning.

It's so easy to forget how lucky I am to have my boys.  This is especially true on a weekend like this one, when we have three baseball games, two soccer games and a Davis Cup tennis match to attend.  And that's only Saturday.  Then, one baseball practice and two soccer practices to get to after church on Sunday.

In between the occasional bickering between them and the trips all over town for practices, games and sleepovers, there is love.  Just simple, pure and unadulterated love.  And Jude and I are so lucky and thankful and blessed to have that love in or lives.

God, be with those families in Humboldt who lost their boys.

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