Doesn't happen to me very often. I always have something to say, an opinion, a wisecrack, a comment.
I've logged in several times to post and find that I am.....speechless.
I posted a little while back about the bubble I live in, a small midwestern town that is not entirely sure if it is a suburb of a larger city or still a farming community. Where people know each other and kids grow up together and parents watch out for any child, whether it's their kid or not. It's one of those towns where nothing bad happens.
Except last week, it did.
The bubble was burst, the peace shattered. It's hard to even think the words, let alone type or say them out loud. How do you explain to your kids that they are safe, and you will take care of them, when you yourself don't feel safe? How do you tell a child who just lost his mother, in a horrific manner, that he is loved and protected and safe? Said child is practically one of my children, having been best friends with my oldest man-cub almost since birth, literally. He looked at me with confused eyes and said, "Who's going to be my mom now?" and it ripped my heart out. Because I don't have an answer for him. No matter what happens or who is in and out of his life, she. Was. His. Mother. She's not replaceable. Not to him.
He has many people, family members and friends, surrounding him and loving him and who would do anything to take care of him. He'll be ok. But he doesn't know that yet.
And his little brother, who witnessed things most of us only ever see in movies...I worry about him. He is also surrounded by people who love him and who will do their very best to take care of him. He'll also be ok. But he doesn't know it yet either.
I have come to see that food = love. People have been bringing food, driving by and throwing mountains of food at us. People bring food when something good happens and they bring it when something bad happens. No matter what is going on, you still gotta eat. Food is comfort. Food = love.
No one ever saw it coming. She was a good person with a good heart, and she was doing the best she knew how to do, and she didn't deserve it. She was my friend. I'm sad for the senseless loss. I'm sad that her boys have to finish growing up without her. I'll get angry eventually, I know. But I'm not even angry at him. It scared me, that he'd been to my house, MY HOUSE, a million times. I never even heard him raise his voice.
Mostly I'm just sad. I have people surrounding me who love me and who want to help, somehow. And I'll be ok.
But I don't know that yet.