Though we experienced a preview of nice weather several times this year, I think its safe to say Spring is finally here. Neighbors are starting to come outside. You can hear the laughter and merriment.
Yet it is also a somber time for those on Etzel because it was around this time last year that a 14-year old, Kathon Moore, decided to take a ride on his bike. Heartachingly, his life was cut short while on that ride right at our corner on Hodiamont.
Even in this tragedy, at least one thing is clear: Kathon was deeply and completely loved. His family, teachers, friends, and neighbors still talk about him and miss him. His life, though shortened, mattered and he impacted everyone he touched. Despite his charm, humor, and intelligence, this post is not necessarily in dedication to Kathon alone. It is to his mother, America.
America, appropriately bears the name of the country that inspired her to hope for more for her son. She is a sister, aunt, daughter, and friend. She is a caretaker by profession and nature. She is funny and sweet. She is tough and gentle. It is also clear that she is a mother. This post is to America, who is full of joy at the mention of her son, and also marred with pain. She told me this month is particularly difficult. It was a month with back-to-back celebrations as both her and Kathon’s birthday is one week apart, but now his death date is part of the period. America now stands in a powerful mix of bliss and misery in March, but there is beauty in how she stands. There is beauty in her decision to press through each day, even during the hard days…it is what I respect and appreciate about her. She has chosen to move forward and allows herself to feel hurt and joy at the mention of his name.
For better or worse, spring has a way of forcing newness on us all. The weather insists that there is hope. New grass pushes through the soil. Pollen is released in the air regardless of seasonal allergies. Whether you are ready or not, the season proclaims that winter is over and abruptly ushers in a new bright day. Time literally jumps forward without our permission, and we are all forced to move with it.
During this time of change, let us remember those who despite the freshness of the season are yet struggling with events of the past. They press into a new day, heroically, but the grief or agony of yesterday is near. People like America, who press forward and never deny the heartache, but who also look for spaces for joy, we salute you. May God make a place for gifts and your heart. There is yet a space for you. We marvel at your commitment to stand in pain and search for beauty.
We celebrate you and all you represent. America. Shannon. Shimica. Leslie. We see you mama.
Cornerstone CDC believes you have a future and a hope this spring and beyond. We’re praying with you.