July 20, 2002

Today I got an email about the death of Andy Kirby. I'll be honest - the name only vaguely sounded familiar. I thought the name Kirby sounded familiar, but not with the first name of Andy. (Of course I later realized it was Stuart whose name was familiar to me.)

I turn and ask my boy, "Do we know Andy Kirby?" And he replies, "Yeah! He's probably my favorite Busch driver. He's a nice guy."

Maybe I was hoping -- yes, definitely I was hoping -- that he'd never heard of Andy. It would be so much easier.

At that point, Colby's standing here in swimming trunks and a goofy foam visor saying, "C'mon, let's go swimming." And I made the decision (for him or for me, I wonder) to simply say nothing about Andy's death.

I've grown so tired of telling my child that someone else he enjoyed watching is dead. Someone he didn't know, but felt on some level that he did.

Parenting can be so rewarding. There are so many high points. So many days when I think that nothing else matters but the joy of being entrusted with the life of one of God's children. Watching him dive into a pool, or the way he climbs trees. Even the way he will think hard and spell a five-syllable word correctly for the first time. But the lows of telling my child about another dead race-car driver are wearing very thin on this mom.

I think back to Alan Kulwicki's death.. and Davey's death.. and Neil Bonnett's death. That really horrible year we had, but how thankful I was that my boy was too young to know. I thought that there are so few deaths, that for so many to happen, surely we'd be sheltered from any more for a good long time. Maybe it has been a good long time, but just as soon as we start feeling better again, there's another wave that hits. And each time it hits, it brings back all of the previous losses we've suffered. For some reason, Andy's death then brings back all the feelings of when Adam Petty died.. and Kenny Irwin.. and Dale.

The two most heartbreaking moments were when I had a horrible feeling -- that same horrible feeling all of us adults had -- after Dale's wreck. And my distress must have been evident on my face as my dear son said, "Why are you so worried? It's not like Dale Earnhardt is dead or anything." As I looked into the face of innocence, I so hoped that he would be right. The next thing I remember is telling him Dale was gone, and the misery that enveloped his little spirit.

Certainly God has a plan. We know that. In all things God works for the good of those who love Him. He makes trials and the trials make us stronger, for without the storms, the roots of a tree would not take such hold of the earth below.

I'm sure before the day is done, I'll tell my son about the loss of Andy Kirby. He, too, despite his tender age, needs the strength that comes from trials. I'm just tired of delivering the storm.

You can contact Carol at.. Insider Racing News