This week our friends lost their 4 year old son Parker. He died of sepsis mere hours after sparking a fever and being taken to a Children’s hospital. There was nothing more his loving parents could have done to prevent this completely senseless tragedy. Attending his funeral was the single saddest event I have ever witnessed and the anguish on his parent’s faces is absolutely heartbreaking. Putting myself in their shoes and imagining my own 4 year old being taken from me has brought me to tears more times than I can count this week.

After a death, especially such a pointless one, it is very common for all of us to think and talk about ‘what is really important’ in life. Our daughters have received many extra hugs and cuddles this week, but I don’t want my lesson to end there. I want to continue to remember that even though Keelyn is throwing a super annoying tantrum because she wants Mom to carry her, even though I’m picturing dragging her to her room and locking the door, at least she is still here! Tomorrow she will once again be funny and quirky and making me smile and this tantrum really doesn’t matter.

I want to use this lesson to let annoyances slide off of me, to let child foolishness go by the wayside. That doesn’t mean I have any intention of letting my kids do whatever they want just to make them happy. There will still be rules, there will still be lessons and guidance, I will still be annoyed and even angry at times. But when those instances happen I will think about Parker’s smiling face and tell myself to chill the hell out already.

I want to double down on my belief that constant worry about my kids or driving them to ‘greatness’ are not helpful to their future and simply takes away from the joy I could be experiencing with them today. I want to treasure them now, not look back at some point in the future and wonder why I let myself waste so much time being pissed at a 4 or 6 year old. If they have broken another rule then, well, maybe we have too many damn rules!

So I make this vow to little loving Parker: I will use your death as a perpetual tool to improve my relationship with my kids. I will work on responding to them with love and not anger. I will remember that even sending them to their room when they are little brats is a treasure I am lucky to have. The tie between myself and my girls will be even happier and more fulfilling. You, Parker, will forever be a treasure within my families life. Thank You.