Lateral Lines

I don't always find myself in agreement with Kevin Short or the opinions expressed in his blog posts from the Bassmaster tournament trail, but the latest article, Firefly Nights, from Don Barone brought some tears in lieu of the usual chuckles. It speaks of deep, life-changing tragedies and one family's efforts to bring about a little bit of light and laughter from a cloud of darkness:

It hit home the moment I felt the hand on my shoulder. When I turned around, I was eye to eye with my friend and Bassmaster Elite pro, Kevin Short.

He said to me: "DB, you want to know horrible? Horrible is having to write your own daughter's obituary."

That would be the exact definition of "horrible."

As I drove down the country road to I-40 and back to Little Rock, I tried to watch the fireflies dance in the hazy early evening misty fields of Mayflower, Ark., but I couldn't -- because away from Kevin and Kerry Short, from behind wraparound Gargoyle sunglasses worn at night, I was bawling like a baby, knowing that my friends lived through the phone call no parent ever wants to get.

That March 22, 2004 call was to tell them their 19-year-old daughter, Michelle Short, was dying in an emergency room bed. As a parent, that situation is just unimaginable.

Because if my son, Jimmy, is my heart, my daughter, Ashley, is my soul … and that's why I cried through the firefly-lit night.

Earlier this year, a pre-school classmate and friend of my four year-old was killed in a tragic accident. In the aftermath for that family and the greater community of the school itself, I came face to face with how fleeting the everyday moments in life as parents, ones which I so often take for granted, truly are. Time has passed for the Short's, but I know a bit more from experiences of the last six months that, when dealing with the loss of a child, "healing" is a relative term.

My deepest respect to the Short family for their bravery in putting a public face on the the healing of a very private hurt.