Monday, June 1, 2009

The Unexpected

This is the sun coming up at our house this morning, starting a brand new day full of as many possibilities as I could ever dream of. James and I shared our normal morning time together, and I've kissed him and sent him off to work, falsely secure in the expectations that he will be home for dinner tonight, safe and sound. And as I sit at the computer, sipping coffee and making out my to-do list for the day, a list I have intentions of completing, I can't help but to think about the news we received yesterday. And how all our hopes, even the one about finishing a simple list of daily chores, can be altered without even a moment's notice.

One of James' co-workers lost his wife suddenly yesterday. They were spending the afternoon enjoying Stone Mountain park, when she felt tired and dehydrated. When Gatorade didn't help, they called an ambulance, and she was dead before she got to the hospital. She was in her 20's. They had four small children. We don't know any other details, and although there will be an autopsy, what comfort will that give a young husband now without his partner in life, left with a houseful of confused, sad children to try and explain it all to.

Who can ever know that a simple Sunday outing will be the last time you ever spend the day with a loved one? What were their last words to each other? Did he promise her she'd be okay? That he would be there with her when they got to the hospital? Were they even able to say goodbye to each other? I don't know these people, but I am overwhelmed with sadness for them, because when I looked at my husband this morning, I couldn't imagine that being the last time I ever saw him. I just found James, I want at least 40 years with him.

I've seen the extreme. I watched my great-grandparents live together into their late 90's, raising a dozen children, living in the home and on the land they'd been on for many decades. One died shortly after the other, as though there was no point in continuing on without their partner. On the other hand, I had classmates back in my hometown who married our senior year, and had four children together, one with special needs. One weekday at lunch, the husband went to grab something to eat with co-workers, and never made it back. A car accident left a young mother with four kids, on her own. One son just on his way to college, lost his father. Who could have been prepared for that loss?

I believe in the old adage of not going to bed angry, and always kissing goodnight. That's how we do it here at our house. We kiss every night before bed, and every morning as James leaves for work. Not because I'm afraid it will be the last time I see him and our last kiss- but because I'm afraid that if I forget, it may have been my last chance.

I do have a regular post I will make today, but I wanted to ask everyone to keep this young family in their thoughts while they try to make sense of this nonsensical tragedy. And kiss your loved ones today, as many times as they will allow it!!

1 comment:

  1. What a tragedy for that family. Thanks for the reminder of life's fragility.