September 12, 2003

So I'm sitting here, in my corner office, with the rain falling outside, and my favorite CD playing. It's a CD called Romance, and has some of the most relaxing music from the San Francisco String Quartet. I used to call it my "cooking music", because it's wonderful kitchen music. But on rainy gloomy days like today, I also like to call it my Autumn music.

Today as the rain was falling, I'm tending to my Thursday morning routine of writing "What's Your Beef?" Maybe you've read it before. Maybe you've even been included. It's a little thing I throw together with letters from folks that are often agitated with me and my musings, often crossing the line of conveying pure disdain. But I make light of it, and give as good as I get, you might say. But today as I'm in the middle of answering email about such things as soft walls, driver favoritism, driver bashing, and the grammatical uses of the words spelled "cue" and "queue", I refresh my mailbox to see a new batch has arrived, among them one titled "Tragic News". I utter a quiet, "Oh, dear." And I say a prayer. In my selfishness, I prayed that all the drivers were okay. I flash back to Charlie Steiner breaking in my ESPN news many years ago to tell me about Davey Allison, and Alan Kulwicki, and Neil Bonnett... and I flash to the email I received more recently, when I first heard the news of Adam Petty. But then I remember my propensity for the dramatic, and tell myself, wait a minute, now.. this is email. It could be the 'tragic news' is that someone thinks I'm paying more for my prescriptions than I ought to. Or someone who thinks it would be tragic if I missed out on the low mortgage rates available. Maybe it's someone who is writing to tell me they've disagreed for the last time, and will now no longer read in my little corner of cyberspace. Maybe it's a reader whose cat has died, and she wanted to tell me, a fellow cat-owner. It could be anything, really, and maybe it was just a dramatic use of the word "tragic". (See, I can have all these thoughts, because I still have dial-up.)

But then it finally opens, and I see the unimaginable. I see that it really is tragic. It's Tara Parker, and she's died. My initial feeling of dread returned in a rush. Not Tara Parker. It just couldn't be. She was so near the brink of understandable death... a failing heart. We understand sickness and then dying. Some even expected it. Certainly not her dear husband Shawn, though, who never gave up hope. And race fans everywhere that rallied around him and prayed for Tara. Prayed for her to receive the new heart she needed, and to receive it in a time that would save her life. Updates week to week about her plight. A call in the middle of the night that a donor had been found. Tragedy for one family meant hope for another. A private jet sent to shuttle Shawn to her bedside. More prayers.

And then the miracle. She was not only okay, she was doing great! The interview of the two of them so young and happy and finally able to enjoy their newlywed life. And their new baby, too. It was only a few short weeks ago that I wrote, "CHEERS" to proud expectant father, Shawn Parker. I can’t believe it’s been two years, and wow, what kinda way God has of working things out just as they should be." Life was good at the Parker house.

But into every life, some rain must fall. If I were a more literarily-educated sort, I could tell you who first said that. All I do know, though, is that right now it's raining, and I'm feeling that it's quite an appropriate day for what might be tears of angels. Why do things like this happen? Why Tara? And why, Lord, NOW??

Wish I knew. If I did, I'd certainly share the revelation. But I don't. I just know that God has a reason. For all that He does, and all that He doesn't do, He has a reason. It's not for me to know, it's only for me to trust. What I do know about life, though, is that death precedes it. For every season in nature and in life, death precedes new life. The old leaves must die and fall before new growth springs forth on each branch. Summer must die for Autumn to come. I don't know what new life will be born of Tara's death, but I know it's there waiting. Maybe it's there in the life of her child. Maybe it's in the next season of Shawn's life. Maybe it's there in all of the loved ones she left behind.

And in the back of my mind, I cannot escape the bitter irony of her death coming at the explosion of a fuel tank. As strongly as many of us felt that we were on the verge of something bad happening... as though these constant fiery crashes were sent as a warning, none could have predicted this was the death that would burden our hearts. And yet here we are, feeling just as much sadness and pain as if our favorite driver had died on the track.

Perhaps the crashes of late have brought to the front of our thoughts that those near us are precious and dear. Not just the drivers, but maybe the crew chiefs, the gasmen, the tire carriers and changers.. maybe they've all been a little more eager to tell those around them how much love they feel. Perhaps a father told a daughter, and a husband told a wife, one more time than before, that she was adored by him.

Take time. Every day. Worry not what trivialities Carol Einarsson is ranting about. But worry that your children know you love them. Worry that your husband knows your heart skips a beat when he walks into the room. Worry that your wife knows that no matter what work burdens you might carry on your shoulders, that she is your bride, and you can't imagine life without her. Worry that you take that time every day. None of this is permanent. But God is. And know that He is in control. Even when our small minds think we know better, remember that we are but children, and He is STILL working all things for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.

You can contact Carol at.. Insider Racing News