So this stream of consciousness is coming from sunny FLA. Five minutes of writing that is not edited. Just written and posted. As always, I gratefully link up at Jana's place where other like-minded writers do too.
Florida is not one of my favorites places because I don’t have much in common with the people who live in this part…they're old. Now some of you out there may be thinking, well she’s "old" too. And I will say to you, “NO. I’m not. Age is just a number.” I hope if you ever meet me you think, “Hey, she has a young spirit.”
But that’s not what this is about. This is about why I’m vacationing in a place I wouldn't choose myself. And I'm not Veruca Salt either.
I’m here because three other women are and I was graciously invited. I’m here because I’ve known these women as acquaintances for the last 13 years. I’m here because 3 years, 2 months, 13 days ago, we became bonded unexpectedly and forever because of tragedy.
In the face of a devastating event such as the loss of a 19 year old child who was the same age as one of yours, who was away on his own as a freshman in college like yours, who’s bedroom window was 15 feet away from yours, who’s death was so incomprehensible that you will never, ever be able to explain or make sense of it, there has to be people to pick up the pieces of shattered hearts.
And there are certain times of the year that bring out the “bad”. This is one of those times.
And as two of us listened to a sermon today in which she wanted no part, we understood that at times she feels abandoned by her faith.
And it’s not that we don’t speak of him. That the subject is taboo. It is anything but that. This morning, we had a nice long talk. We learned things about him we didn’t know, she’s never shared. We thought we knew just about everything.
My heart broke again. For her.
I cried but I often do.
And she gave me one of her trademark hugs.