I find myself sitting at my dining room table with my heart too full for words. But you know me, I'll try to squeak some out anyway. I feel like it's necessary to uncork some of this.
On Monday night, a good friend of ours lost his dad. While he was not in the greatest of health, this was unexpected and thankfully, did not drag on for days. Our friend and his family are wrestling with the details that accompany loss and delay grief, and Husband and I will travel to Nebraska on Saturday to attend the funeral. In this particular circle of friends - from my college days in Centennial Singers - this is the fourth person to lose their father. Aren't we too young for that? Isn't that supposed to happen much further down the road?
Last night I found out - through Facebook (oh, the irony!) - that a former neighbor and friend died. His ex-wife told me that she and their son are hanging in and doing well. It was through another friend that I discovered he committed suicide. When Husband and I were first married and lived in our little condo in the mountains, this couple lived above us. Our dogs played together and we had dinners together and socialized like young newlyweds do. It is hard for me now to grasp the fact that to me life feels so wonderfully fulfilling, and to him life felt too dark to continue to face. It's like staring at two sides of the same proverbial coin. His Facebook page is a very sad tribute to a person who was obviously wrestling with feelings far darker than I've ever had to deal with; his last post, posted the day before his death, reads like a final sigh.
I'm sorry to be so heavy with this entry. I had all kinds of pictures to post of the kids, their cousins and their visit with Grandpa, but I think I need to leave the space of a day or so. I will return with the photos - sure signs of how thankful I am for my life and the lives of those I love.
No comments:
Post a Comment