Broken Hearted Runner

It's been a year since tragedy struck our home and I've spent some time digesting what that means for our family. As I wake up today, a federal holiday, I am happy to have all of my family under one roof. But the reality is, the only reason we are all home is because there is a memorial service planned for their father today. And losing a father is no reason for celebration. Fathers are a lot of things. Each family has different needs and expectations for the man who fills this role. In Norman Rockwell's world fathers were the breadwinners, disciplinarians, and baseball coaches. They were big, burly men who wore suits or uniforms and left the house only to return and sit at the head of the table. They drove the family around in the big car and carved the turkey on Thanksgiving. But some fathers are not so traditional. Like people, some fathers are quite different in what they can provide to their family. Brian was one of those non-traditional fathers. He was not the b

Written by Ceci Harding  On the night of October 8, 2017 my family and I sat around the coffee table playing The Game of Life . Little did we know at that same time, 87 miles away, the game of life that we knew was crashing off track. Brian Michael Harding March 23, 1774 - October 8, 2017 I woke the next morning to the sound of my mother calling me and my siblings to breakfast. It was Columbus Day so we didn’t have school. I groaned and crawled out of my bed, tiredly walking down the stairs. We all sat at breakfast while my mom told us her plan for the day and asked what we were doing on our day off. Then, after finishing breakfast, my siblings and I went to our rooms to go back to sleep and my mom went to her boyfriend’s house. It was less than 30 minutes later when I heard the front door open again. I was confused as to why my mom was back so quickly, and even more confused when I heard her yelling in a shaky voice, “Logan, Cecilia, Eve! Come here! Like – right here!” I