Grief

I've been laying low the past few days, sorting out some events that have recently taken place in our lives. One of Dan's colleagues- a wonderful, loving, and sweet man who has done nothing greater in his role as vice-principal than support Dan beautifully- just lost his 21 year old son in a small private plane crash last Friday. When a tragedy of such magnitude hits this close to home, it's difficult to get through the day without feeling incredibly selfish. So, I got stuck in traffic for 20 minutes. So what? I have a 4 year old who is driving me nuts. So what? It's the reason I haven't even dared blog in a week, because suddenly I've gained a whole new level of perspective. When someone you know and love is enduring the most painful moment in their life, somehow it just feels wrong that our lives get to continue, and that such trivial everyday events continue to unfold.

Right now I'm just completely overwhelmed at the juxtaposition of life and death; this family, mourning the loss of their precious son, a fact I am reminded of 1,000 times a day with every moment I get to spend with my children, and with every new memory we are lucky enough to create. Now that I'm a parent, the thought of losing a child takes my breath away. The possibility alone stings my heart. I cannot fathom anything more painful, and I'm left feeling helpless and unsure of how we can support their family in this time of tremendous grief. I find that I'm putting myself in their position multiple times throughout the day, asking, "What would I want from friends & family? How would I want to be comforted?" And so, I've made them a loaf of homemade bread, which will be hand delivered by Dan this afternoon. He'll go to their house to sit with them, to perhaps cry with them, to just be with them. That's the thing about grief- it strips us down to the fragile, vulnerable core, and bonds humans together in a way unlike any other. All we can do now is pray, and let our flood gates of love open wide. I know they'll be taking baby steps towards finding peace. As for today, I just pray for an ample dose of hope.

"Earth hath no sorrow that heaven cannot heal."

-Thomas Moore