An Army travels on it's stomach... or something.

Well, I started jotting down notes on today this morning and "somebody" forgot to save them.  It was really good too, probably the best stuff I've ever written.  In my entire life.  

Not really.

Besides the day took kind of a turn anyway.  More on that later.

For starters, we got on the road around 6:30 this morning, which allowed us to take the scenic (no snark here, it's really beautiful) drive up Illinois Route 2 from Dixon (still the boyhood home of the worst president ever) to Rockford.  

Once we got into town, we dropped the vehicles off at one of the firehouses and went over to a wonderful restaurant called the Stockholm Inn.  We were treated to breakfast (emphasis on treated, this place is amazing) by the Rockford FD and we all loved it.  

Let me just go on record here and say I love maple syrup.  I mean, appropriately, of course. I don't put it on everything, only pancakes or french toast, but I typically will not waver when presented with choices from the world of syrup.  

Stockholm Inn blows that little foible of mine out. of. the. water.  Let me just say one word to you.

Lingonberries.

If you've never experienced them on pancakes, you're cheating yourself.  And your stomach.  Besides, it's a Swedish restaurant, and as the old saying goes, when in Sweden, do as the Swedes do.  I think that's how it goes anyway.

Speaking of which, lest you think my stomach is the primary organ that moves me, let me tell you a little about my heart.

It broke a little today.

After breakfast, we were escorted to Swedish American Hospital Cancer Center for a static display.  A really great parade that included about 20 motorcycles, a couple cars from the Rockford PD, truck 5 and a chief officer from Rockford FD and the local chapter of PH (shout out to Marcy Johnson and her people!) led us to Swede's for the event.  There was a pretty good crowd there and we were very well received.

We also had two home visits set for the day.

I want to tell you about the second one.

As we were driving in to town this morning, Marcy called to tell me that the woman we were supposed to visit this afternoon had passed away last Friday.  The family asked if we would still stop by however, as this was something Susie was really looking forward to.  Well, of course we would.  I got on the radio and told Don, Sean, Ray and Mike what had happened.  This stop just sounded like the kind of thing that, if we hadn't known about it beforehand would have been very difficult for us to deal with emotionally.  

I don't care why you take part in something like what we do, if you're not emotionally invested, you won't last because it just isn't for you.  Having said that, if you let your emotions get the best of you every time, you won't make it either.  You'll be too much of a wreck to function.

So by giving ourselves a little heads up, we can prevent losing it in front of everyone.

As we pulled onto the street, I saw a crowd of people and announced it to the guys.  

I had no idea how big it was.

There had to have been, literally, 200 people out on the street and in the front yards of several homes.

We got out and gathered together and met Mike and his kids.  I shot a little video for the PH page and took my place in line to hug them.  I said something to Mike and his kids about how there were thousands of people they had never and would never meet sending them strength and love and to please keep that in mind over the days and weeks ahead.  

And we moved to the side so everyone in the convoy could hug them.  I asked one of the guys if he had a marker, trying to focus on the task at hand, and he had one.  He handed it to me.  I could see in his face the emotion was getting to him.  So I took the marker from him.  And as I started to tell the guys what we would be doing next, I heard my voice break.

And I felt a tear well up in my eyes.  

Just like now, as I write this.

I did my best to recompose myself.

Just like now, as I write this.

And we moved to Mike and his kids to escort them to the trucks so they could sign.  Don moved up and walked with Mike, our Mikey walked with the daughter and I walked with the son.  I told them that right now these trucks aren't ours, they belong to them and to take as long as they like to write as much or as little as they wanted to, to memorialize their Mom.  

As I stood back and watched over the daughter's shoulder while she wrote, I had to fight back the tears.  

I lost.

But I did my best to pull myself together and, I think, pulled it off.  

As Mike and his kids were pulled in another direction, for more pictures and hugs from friends and neighbors I had a chance to reflect on August of 2006 and I knew I wanted an opportunity to speak to Mike alone, away from the crowd, to try and share some of what I learned with him.  

As this was all spinning around my brain, someone came up to me and asked if they could buy some t-shirts from us.  They appreciated what we were doing for the family and wanted to thank us.  I told them we'd be happy to help them, but that the family comes first and until they're taken care of, until we've done everything we can do for them at this visit, we won't sell shirts.  

I found Mike, and as he finished with a photo op, I asked him if I could speak to him for a minute and took him to the bus.  I wanted the chance to speak to him uninterrupted and this was it.  

I sat down with him and told him that I had lost my wife nine years ago.  The circumstance was different, but that I'd learned a few things about grief and I wanted to share my thoughts with him.  I told him to make sure and take time for himself, that even though he needed to be strong for his kids, he needed to let his own feelings out from time to time.  I told him too, that in my opinion, grief was a lot like being a recovering alcoholic and to take one step at a time.  And I told him to never let someone tell him there was a finite time to grieve.  

About this time his kids came on the bus and joined us.  I told them that in the years I had been traveling with Pink Heals I had done hundreds of these home visits and that this was, by far, the biggest crowd I had ever experienced.  I told them that it was a testament to the love and respect everyone had for them and for their Mom.  That brought a brief smile to their faces.

After they left the bus, we opened it up for anyone that wanted to get a shirt or hat.  I decided to sell from inside the bus rather than set up the tables.  We've done that before, if the crowd is going to be smallish it's easier this way.  

Sean rang up the purchases, I pulled stock and Ray acted as the doorman since the bus gets crowded quickly.  We were in there for over an hour.  

I've never seen anything like it.

I think we sold more stuff at this home visit than we did at our display.  

I was stunned.  

I think now, almost four hours after we left Mike and his kids, I'm finally coming to terms with my emotions.  This one hit me and it hit me hard.  

And that's ok.

Peace.

PS.  kudos to the Oldest One and the Heir to the Throne.  They came out today to see us at Swede's and ended up going on the home visits with us.  And they did great.  I'm very proud of them both and I'm so fortunate to have them.  I always say I feel like my life has been blessed, no matter the adversity we may have faced and today reinforced that.

Again, Peace.