At 15, my daughter Brittany took a job assisting for a home daycare. I went to pick her up and as I waited in my car at the curb I glanced in the large front window. My instant thought was what a warm family appeal.
I glanced at the driveway and thought what a family of fun! Parked was a well-built Blazer and in the garage were motorcycles of all sizes. Oh yeah, these are my kind of people.
Brittany walked out the door and following close behind her was Barbie incarnate! Darling, blonde and petite little Barbie came up to my window to introduce herself. “Hi, I’m Kathy.” Simultaneously, the garage door opened and out walked Ken! Who also proceeded to my car window and introduced himself as “Duke.”
It seemed most of the neighborhood boys lingered at their home. Riding a skateboard, building a ramp, or just hanging out, there were kids everywhere. Two of those backward hat wearing boys were called out to come meet Mrs. Rausch.
If they had been the same height, I would have sworn they were twins. “This is our oldest son, Brit and our second son Blake.” As many teenage kids, they shrugged their shoulders, said Hey, and went back to their friends. That day inaugurated our family friendship.
Brit and Brittany forged a deep bond resembling brother and sister. While Blake and my son Brent became friends and classmates. The teenage years became more endurable for both sets of kids and parents because we had each other to rely on.
A T-shirt I read years earlier could sum up the beginning of my love for Brit Britton. “Mama’s like the good boys…… but the chicks like the BAD ones.” Yes, I agree most Mama’s like good boys, but Mama Dana has always had an enduring love for so-called “bad” boys. Yet, your definition and mine may differ in what we define as a bad boy.
In my mind a bad boy is described as one who thrives on adventure and is infamous for toeing the line. Those who live their life with permanent smirks on their faces that challenge, “Dare Me!” Living the slogan of Wide World of Sports… “….. to bring you the constant variety of sport… the thrill of victory… and the agony of defeat… the human drama of athletic competition….”
Oh yeah… they compete…..in every facet of life.
Whether on a skateboard or motorcycle, football field or in a pool, being in a boat, skimming rocks on a lake, climbing a hill, regardless if on water, sand or dirt they are notorious for doing ALL things bigger, better, dangerous and fast! They are those little boys causing parents to gasp in fear of their antics that grow into men who work hard to perfect the danger zones.
Brit lived his life with his petal to the metal. He met every challenge with a balls-out mentality. Fearless of danger, thriving in risk situations, he laughed wholeheartedly as he crossed any finish line.
Sadly, this was at the distain of some people when Brit didn’t fit their mold. We tried to make him into someone he was never created to be. I am so thankful we didn’t succeed. Because God designed Brit to be completely who he was: Strong, courageous, bold, daring, loving, family oriented and soft hearted.
Brit died in a car accident Saturday night on a dark, secluded, two lane highway. Yet at the scene it is clear he swerved to miss something and hit the light pole. He wasn’t racing, being negligent or careless. He simply reacted to someone or something that darted in front of him.
My hope in the stark reality of his death is that my generation would shed their religious superiority, hard-hearted attitude and small mindset to reach out to the young adults of today. To love them into God’s embrace as a replacement for judging, pointing fingers and shaking heads.
We could be the ones to show them God’s love. Instead of putting conditions such as I will love you IF. Or I will love you WHEN. Take off the stipulations that they have to be a certain way to be loved and accepted. Because God’s unconditional love says I will love you even if we don’t agree.
I may not have agreed with his need for speed, but I can just picture it now. Much like my husband believes there are golf courses in heaven there has to be a drag strip for Brit. I can see Peter standing with the yellow flag raised. As Paul and Brit rev their engines at the starting line Jesus has the checkered flag at the finish line. Anticipation mounts as the crowd noise escalates….. and the race is ON!