For Aaron Christian Buda

                Yesterday, around 8 AM, an accident occurred on Eastbound 496 that backed up traffic in either direction for miles, eventually closing down the Eastbound lanes. Six cars were involved in the accident. One of those cars caught fire mere seconds after the accident. The driver of that car, Aaron Christian Buda, did not survive.

He was 24.

                Aaron was married to Jennifer. I do not know Jennifer, and I did not know Aaron. I cannot even begin to imagine the intense pain that Jennifer feels right now, or the panic that struck the moment she heard the news that her husband of only two years had passed away.

                Whenever I hear news like this, I automatically become an investigator. I did it with 9/11 and the Newtown tragedy. I want to see what I can find out about the actual people in these news stories, since all the news seems to give us is cold facts and tragedy. And that’s fair. The news sources are supposed to inform us of the events that go on in our world and, unfortunately, those events have not been very blissful as of late.

                Here is what I found out: Aaron was a fun loving young man. From what I could gather, he and his wife had a very happy and loving relationship. In his wife’s profile picture, the couple is shown participating in what looks to be a charity event. From the comments on Aaron’s profile picture, it seems as if Aaron was surrounded by a very loving and warm family. In that profile picture, Aaron has a look of joy on his face and is holding a coffee mug, which is fitting because Aaron worked for Biggby.

                Aaron and Jennifer were married on October 30, 2012. That’s exactly 27 months ago. To me, that doesn’t seem like much time at all. I’m sure it doesn’t seem like much time to Jennifer either. However, to her, I am sure those 27 months are filled with unforgettable memories and moments. Contrarily, I am sure that these next few weeks, months, and maybe years will be filled with mourning and tears that will only be dried by the memory of Aaron.

                I, myself, am getting married this May. In the past, my investigation into these life stories has been droll and brief. However, this time, I caught myself. I was crying. Like I said, I didn’t know Aaron, or Jennifer, or anyone in their families, and I don’t pretend to. I was simply another driver caught in traffic on a Tuesday morning. My curiosity got the best of me, and I began waiting for them to identify the driver. As soon as his name was released, I logged onto Facebook and immediately found Aaron. And I found Jennifer. Seeing them smile together made this news story different to me. I was suddenly struck with sadness for what this poor woman is now forced to endure. And yet, I was hit with a bit of happiness in realizing that she is enveloped in such a loving family.

                There is not a single one of us in this life that knows the exact moment of when we will pass away. Aaron didn’t know. Jennifer was not preparing herself for Aaron to die that morning. But they knew love. Love for one another, the love of family, and the love of the Lord. I am very grateful that I took the moment to see that. My heart breaks for Jennifer and the Buda family, but I am comforted to know that they have each other. And I will think of them in the months ahead as I move toward my own commitment of life and love.

I hope you will, too.

The Wrong Move

I just made the wrong move. I woke up this morning and I told myself that I was going to workout. Was I going to run? No. It was snowing/raining outside. I was going to ride a stationary bike. The weather was great inside. I had a slight stomachache in the morning, but it took care of itself, so I figured I'd be fine. The time came for me to hop on that bike. I was about to head into the basement when it hit me: I can't exercise on an empty stomach. "That would be insane", I reasoned.  So I reached for the Doritos and Sunny D.

Perfect.

Needless to say, I did not feel like exercising afterwards. I felt heavy, as if I had added one more unnecessary burden to an already insurmountable weight. I felt like a failure. There wasn't any motivation to be found at that point. So, after a few moments, I made another wrong move: I gave up.

I'm not one who enjoys getting my butt kicked. I will never truly understand those people who love to "feel the burn." I was always taught that you avoid anything that burns, like hot stoves and heart burn. I've always viewed workouts like P90X and Insanity as crazy, and the people who participated in them, even crazier. To me, there has never really been anything truly attractive about attempting to move my body until it hurts.

Here is another wrong move I've made: I've lost sight of the goal. And in reality, that is worse than Doritos and giving up. The ease of comfort food and letting go of a workout routine clouded my vision. This realization hurt more than the realization of temporary failure. Because at that point, I had no longer just let myself down, I had let someone much more important down.

That hurts.

I may not enjoy getting kicked in the butt by a workout or "feeling the burn", but I far less enjoy the pain of disappointing another. And that... that I cannot stand for. So, now, I am choosing to make the right move. Not just for me. I am doing it for something greater than myself.

I will feel the burn.