Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Scott Smed - part 1.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house and that was a good thing. The Annual Scott Smed golf tournament came and went this week, and I was thrilled to be part of it again. No, they weren’t crying about their golf games, in fact, I think the golf part is almost like an afterthought. Almost. They were crying because the charity had touched their hearts. again.

It all began when my friends Shannon and Peter were pregnant with their first child – a boy – Scott. I didn’t know them at the time, my sister was still dating Shannon’s brother (they are married now with a baby of their own this year). I remember my sister saying that Shannon had read every baby book there was and was so excited about the pregnancy. Anyone who knows Shannon knows how she throws herself into things with contagious enthusiasm (oh, that laugh!), and I can only imagine what she would have been like then.

But, sadly, it wasn’t meant to be. Something went very wrong and they ended up loosing the baby in the third trimester. Peter always says that the charitable works that they do make Scott’s life and death have purpose. That even though he is not here with us, his presence can be felt by the good things that people do in his name. The Scott Smed Memorial Foundation is making efforts to improve the experiences of families who have lost a child. The money raised has gone towards building special delivery rooms in soon to be four Calgary hospitals for families who are experiencing a loss, support and resources for families, and training for hospital staff.

What I really admire about this charity is its grassroots beginnings. It’s the story of a family seeing a need in the community and deciding they can do something about it. And this group of people is accomplishing that in really concrete and measurable ways. The best part of the golf tournament, in my opinion, is the guest speaker. Someone who has used the services of the Scott Smed Foundation gathers up all their courage and tells their story. You grieve with them, but you also can hear the hope coming through, and the gratefulness that they didn’t have to go through it alone. That’s why I choose to volunteer at this tournament every year instead of just sending my silent auction items. To be part of something like this, even for just a day makes us all feel a little more human.

(come back to see part 2 - I promise lots of pictures, less seriousness, and a follow up to the sneak peak posts I keep taunting you with. Thanks for reading this far.)

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