What Really Matters

From my journal dated June 5, 2002:

I think sometimes of all the things I realize now with Jason gone – the one that keeps coming back to me is of how little importance “things” are. When the tree fell on the house we were renting in 1993 and we had to move everything out in a day, I thought I learned then that “stuff” wasn’t all that important. I was so glad the tree hadn’t hit any of us. I was so glad we were all safe. We moved on…bought a house…accumulated more things.

Now none of it matters to me at all. I would give everything away if I could only have Jason back! Before the accident, I was concerned about paying the bills, getting the house fixed up, having a decent car to drive. How easy it is to get caught up again in stuff that doesn’t matter. I would live in a hovel, work my tail off, walk everywhere just to have him back again. None of it matters except the people you love. So many things I thought important just aren’t.

What matters is character quality, how you treat those you love and people around you. We get so caught up in false things these days – like those who have more money are more important than those who don’t. What’s important is doing something for someone even though there’s no reward or recognition. That’s what’s important; that’s what Jason did. What he did was just go about his daily life, not judging people. He valued those around him for who they were.

This entry was posted in Bereaved Parent, Children, Death of a child, Family, What's Important and tagged , by Rebecca Carney - One Woman's Perspective. Bookmark the permalink.

About Rebecca Carney - One Woman's Perspective

My name is Becky Carney. My husband, Joe, and I have been married for 42 years. We have two living children, Eric (38) and Jenna (33). We lost a baby in utero at 19 weeks in 1987. In 2002, our middle son, Jason (19), and his best friend, Alina (20), were broadsided by a drunk driver who was going at least twice the speed limit. They both died instantly. This blog is written from my perspective as a bereaved parent. I don't claim to know what it's like to walk in anyone else's shoes. Each situation is different; each person is different. Everyone handles grief differently. But if I can create any degree of understanding of what it's like to be a parent who has lost a child, then I have succeeded in my reason for writing this blog.

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