Music has always been such a huge part of my life.
Piano lessons, flute lessons, hymns at church.
Nothing moves me like music. Literally and figuratively. I use it to workout, I use to contemplate and reflect.
And sometimes out of the blue, it brings me to my knees.
The year was early 2004. I had just given birth to Cole a few months back and I was standing in the kitchen bouncing my new baby on my shoulder. It was noon. Austin was in afternoon Kindergarten so I was getting him fed before it was time for school.
The news is on at noon, and sometimes I had it on in the kitchen while I was fixing the boys lunch. It’s hard to even imagine now, 6 short years later what it was like, having 3 boys all to myself every morning. But I did. What I wouldn’t give for just one morning back then, of course it was a crazy needy time, but I so loved having them with me.
Anyway, a breaking story came on the news- a little boy at Austin’s former preschool had been hit by a car in the parking lot, and it didn’t look good.
One of my friends called, her son had been in pre-k with Austin at that school. She is a nurse. She said, “It worries me that they didn’t take him to Children’s. The fact that they transported him to the nearest hospital means that he isn’t going to make it.”
He didn’t.
My heart sank. How many times had I been in that parking lot and uttered those exact same words that his mom said to him, “run around and get it on the other side while I strap the baby in.” The SUV that was pulling out in the parking space next to him never even saw him.
I cried. And I went into a funk that lasted what seemed like forever. I just couldn’t shake it.
How fast things change, how fragile life is.
There was a song that was popular at the time on the radio. When I would hear it I would think of the parents. I would think about his little bike that they put in the front yard with balloons attached, and I would cry. Big ugly sobs that were probably part hormonal and part just that aching raw feeling that comes from being a parent. The one that has you on your guard 24/7. The one that doesn’t ever ever let you take for granted the people that you have around you.
Fast forward 6 years and I am in the line at school to pick up Cole because he doesn’t want to walk home in the cold. The song comes on the radio, and in a split second I am brought back to that place. The raw place where the tears flow and I remember what those days felt like- those days when I couldn’t get those parents out of my head. When I wasn’t sure I was ever going to be happy again, even though all of my children were safe under my roof.
Here is the song
And after I listened to it, and cried, I was still sitting in the pick-up line. I decided to google the family on my iPhone, I knew that they had moved away a couple years ago.
And here is what I found.
The first link that popped up was in the thedailytarheel.com
So that of course caught my attention. Ya’ll know how I love North Carolina.
Here is the article.
The Daily Tar Heel
Lacrosse practice ends as players huddle at midfield, with arms raised and a shout on three.
“Family.”
One man stands in the middle of it all — a historic resurgence, a turning point and a huddle of 44 brothers.
In coach Joe Breschi’s second season, North Carolina is ranked No. 3 nationally heading into this weekend’s ACC Tournament.
That success may serve as proof of one family rebuilt.
But before he could do that, Breschi had to rebuild his own.
“We knew no matter what happened in our move down to UNC, whether it was the right fit or not the right fit, we were going to survive it,” he said. “Because we had been through the worst of times, and we had been able to get through it as a family.”
For Breschi, survival gave way to success. But family came first.
Coming back
When Breschi sat before UNC athletic director Dick Baddour in an interview for North Carolina’s coaching vacancy, he had to make a confession.
“I love Ohio State,” he said. “And I love everything about it.”
When Breschi arrived at OSU in 1998 for his first head coaching job, the program promised no scholarships, no wins and little else.
Seven winning seasons and three NCAA Tournament bids eventually proved those promises to be empty.
But when Breschi considered leaving Ohio State, he was not merely leaving behind 11 years of success.
He was leaving a place that had seen his family through its greatest loss.
On March 1, 2004, Breschi’s wife Julie was buckling their two younger daughters into their minivan when their 3-year-old son Michael wandered away.
Moments later, he was struck and killed by a car in the parking lot of his nursery school.
“A fluke accident,” Breschi said. “A tragic accident.”
In the months following, Breschi’s young children helped him and his wife get out of bed.
The OSU family brought him back to the lacrosse field and onto his feet.
Even six years later, the Michael R. Breschi Scholarship remains the largest memorial scholarship in the OSU’s athletic department.
“One of the things my wife Julie and I said after the loss of Michael was, you never knew how many friends you had,” he said.
“And you wish you never had to find out how great people are because they care so much about you.”
Four years after Michael’s death, Breschi received an opportunity to move back to his alma mater.
It also meant leaving another family behind.
In his interview with Baddour, Breschi had first admitted his appreciation for OSU.
But he had quickly followed it with an exception.
“That’s the only reason I’m here,” he said. “The only place I would leave Ohio State for would be the University of North Carolina.”
The alma mater might have had an edge, but another family had to come first.
Could his wife and four daughters handle another monumental change? Could he?
The next morning, Julie approached Breschi with a card.
“She wrote a beautiful letter,” he said. “It said, ‘I’m 100 percent in.’ That kind of said, ‘let’s take another chapter in our life and move forward with something that is special.’”
The letter was written in a card for Dad. The offer had been received on Father’s Day.
“The loss of Michael gave us the courage to make the move,” he said. “To make this life-changing move.”
When Breschi arrived in 2008, he brought a philosophy that outlined three new commitments for the program.
Family. Academics. Lacrosse. And in that order.
“It took a while for us to get used to his new motto, the new atmosphere that he brought,” junior Billy Bitter said.
Breschi’s emphasis on acting as a family included time on the field, off the field and even in his own home.
Breschi and his wife regularly host all 44 players for dinner, while his players have played host to Breschi’s four daughters.
And when the family-first philosophy began to translate into wins, no one could complain — not even about the 6 a.m. practices.
“This year, in the second year under him, everyone decided to be here at 6 a.m.,” Bitter said. “Everyone’s hard-hitting in practice, and everyone’s always smiling at the end.”
And this far in the season, they have good reason to.
In his first season, Breschi led UNC to its best start since 2002.
This season’s 10-0 start was the best since 1991, when UNC went undefeated en route to the program’s last national championship title.
Lacrosse may come last in a list of priorities, but the team’s pursuits for a title are hardly an afterthought.
“We’ve had two goals the whole season, to win the ACC championship and the national championship,” senior midfielder Sean DeLaney said.
“So those goals haven’t changed at all. That’s our expectation right now.”
Finally home
Breschi recalled looking at his daughter Samantha last year as she marveled at 70-degree weather in mid-March.
For eight months, he had watched his oldest daughter struggle with her new life. And for months, he had wondered about his decision.
But that day, the 7-year-old sat before her father and made a confession.
“Dad, I love it at North Carolina,” she said. “And I want to stay here forever.”
This time, there would be no exception.
“That’s the moment I’ll remember,” he said. “Her saying — us saying — that we’ve arrived, and we’re here for good.”
For Breschi, survival had given way to success. And there he stood, taking it all in.
“That was the first moment I said, ‘You know what, this was the right move,’” he said. “And we have finally turned a corner.”
I don’t know what made me decide to google them. Some sort of desire to know that they were ok I guess. I never knew them personally.
I sat there thinking about them when I spotted my little guy jumping up and down with the other kids waiting for their parents and I felt a huge smile come on my face.
The worry obviously will never go away- but learning to live in the moment and not worry about what comes next is hard lesson I have been trying to learn.
That raw feeling will also never go away, I know I can be brought to my knees in a heartbeat. It’s happened too many times and I can’t kid myself into thinking it won’t happen again.
But right now, right this minute? Things are good. And I am going to soak it in.
Thanks for totally making me cry in the middle of the library! Those moments of pure raw ache are just knee buckling. That FEAR that lives in all of us when it comes to our children. I am so glad that even though they had such a horrific loss they have been able to keep living and survive…even enjoy life. What a blessing.
Wow – it has been six years? I am so happy for this family and I hope the others involved in the accident have found some peace too. It still turns my stomach. Much love to the Kennemers!
I don’t even have the words to express how I feel. It amazes me sometimes how often it takes a something major for me to realize how truly blessed I am. This post once again opened my eyes and caused some tears (I’m not even pre-menstral). Thanks for this post. (I have been horrible at keeping in touch. Maybe after the holidays we can meet for lunch…;) Ha!)
how tragic.
just seems so crazy when things happen like that.
what an awesome testimony of strength and family unity!