I had a plan tonight. It seems so senseless now.
Like the death of a teenage boy who is like family to our family.
Death by drowning. Swept from an outcropping. Swept from the lives of the people who love him.
Grief isn’t just the loss of this young man. It is the agony of this brutal reminder that life is fragile; that we have no control; that we can’t be everywhere and protect everyone.
I must deny this.
Circle the wagons. Gather my children and grandchildren. I want to look at them; to hold them; to see them safe and well and whole.
I want the clock to turn back to the days that I was sure that God and I had it handled, and that between the two of us, everything would be fine.
It isn’t always fine, is it? Sometimes it isn’t even tolerable. Sometimes the weight of sadness is so heavy that it’s hard to breath.