This is going to be hard.
My heart has been aching all day, and I’ve been having trouble figuring out my own thoughts.
Everyday, I hear about someone’s loss. Terrible things happen; things I can’t even begin to comprehend, but I’m able to put them into a category.
Children battle will illness until their little bodies give out. Someone’s son dies because another person couldn’t wait to answer that text message. Accidents, even the senseless ones, can be explained. When I hear these stories, I pause, I feel sorrow, I think about the parents, and then I move on.
Today, I can not move on. Today I learned that a friend of mine lost her precious baby girl. Megan was just 18 months old, just days apart from another beautiful little girl I know. Her mother put her down for a nap. She never woke up.
There’s simply no reason, no way to categorize this and make it make sense. It was a nap. We have enough in this world without naps being the thing we have to fear.
I’ve cried so much today. I’ve cried for Jenny, whose pain I can’t even imagine. I’ve cried for Michael, who has been in Iraq serving our country. I’ve cried for sweet Emily who will have to grow up without her little sister. And I’ve cried for my own fears. The little part of me that stays awake listening when my kids are sick. You think that fear goes away when they get older, but it doesn’t. It might soften a little, but it’s there.
It’s stuff like this that shows you just how fickle life is. How an ordinary, mundane day can change your whole world