I have written about grief. A lot. This is because I have experienced it. A lot. And people close to me have as well. I have said in the past that I think the ability to grieve well is a gift. Many may disagree, but that doesn't make it any less true.
This week I find myself thinking that it is fine and dandy for me to grieve because I am not a Spring chicken anymore and I am able to handle it. At least that is what I tell myself. But what about me having to watch my kids grieve? Well, this is an entirely different story.
A week ago today my son, his wife, and many friends had to face the unimaginable: the sudden death of a friend they had known for years. One day he was here, the next he was gone. Of course, this is true of everyone who dies. We just don't expect a vibrant 33 year old in the prime of life to collapse...and never wake up. It's heartbreaking for everyone involved. Especially parents. His parents, his wife's parents. All parents.
We do not want to see our kids experience pain. But we also know that, there but for the grace of God go I. We begin to wonder about mortality in general and the mortality of our kids specifically. That could have been MY son, MY daughter. Then we thank God that it wasn't and feel just a tinge of guilt.
Death is never fun because death is our enemy. We were never, ever supposed to experience it so all death is unwelcome. It feels so foreign to us. It is not our friend. People who say that death is just a part of life are wrong. It is completely contrary to the way things were supposed to be.
Sudden, unexplained, youthful death is even that much harder to bear. Watching your kids, even though they are actually adults, walk through it is nearly unbearable. You wish you could take it all on yourself and bear the full burden of it.
That's not reality, I know. I only wish it were.
If it were not, my kids' father would not have died. Neither would their uncle or their grandparents. Or anyone else who is close to them or who will ever be close to them.
It's just not fair.
I'm not the only one who thinks this. I was chatting with another mom who feels the exact same way about this situation. It totally stinks.
I have a deep faith in God and I know He has a purpose for everything. Even so, I am asking why a lot. That's okay. I think God wants us to ask questions and I know he can handle anything that comes His way.
So what can any of us do when unexpected grief hits? We can support those who are heartbroken: show up for them and love them. We can contemplate our own mortality.
More than anything, we can get right with God and right with others. And we can live every day like it's our last because it very well could be.