Stories of Loss

This week has been filled with stories of loss. 

Close friends of mine are grieving heavily for one of their best friends - a young man, killed by a hit and run driver.  They are visiting with his parents, planning his memorial, cleaning out his apartment, and figuring out where donations should go in lieu of flowers.  I remember these things so vividly - how they kept my mind and my heart occupied at first.  There was a frantic pace involved with it all.  There is no easy way to plan for such unexpected tragedy.  Every decision has to be made within hours, sometimes minutes.  It's too much.  And then when it all finally calms down, you are left with the unbearable loss - the vacancy, the emptiness, the broken heart.  It is so awful, I can hardly bear thinking about it. 

And then I heard about another loss of a young man gone way too soon - only 49 years old, leaving behind a wife and two small children.  This guy was a huge part of our teenage years.  Someone who always made us laugh - successful, warm, fun, funny.  I haven't seen him in ten years and so I am not sure why I feel such a deep sense of loss.  But I do.

I am thinking about their friends.  I am thinking about their families.  I am thinking about their parents.  I am thinking about their mothers most of all.  I hate to sound so bleak but I don't even know what to make of it all anymore.  I hate knowing what's coming for those who grieve them most - the horrific grief, the sleepless nights, the disbelief, the stupid comments, the abandonment.  I am so sorry that anyone has to walk this road I am on.  The world stops making sense, the color all disappears, the joy (when you can find it) is muted. 

I am sorry.