Goodnight, My Angel

We just heard that an operator's husband died yesterday after suffering from a heart attack while undergoing surgery to replace his kidney. He had been anxiously waiting for a kidney transplant for the past couple years, and finally the promising opportunity surfaced. He was stable, though in intensive care, and we all thought he would pull through. Now this terrible news. And last night, a small group member shared that his coworker was driving back from LA over the weekend and got into an accident which ejected her eight year daughter from the car. She had not been wearing a seatbelt and did not survive. I cannot imagine the devestation this mother and my coworker must feel. The words not yet spoken, the feelings not yet shared, and the adventures left unexplored together. Mourning traps you in such a lonely place. I hope God will find them where they hide.

I am spent.
______________
February 28, 2005

Seeing Tilessa step out of the limo, I expected her to be overwraught with grief. But surprisingly, she greeted us from afar with smiles and laughter when she caught sight of us. It was our everyday Tilessa. But as we came closer to offer a friendly embrace, she broke down. It was heartwrenching to see her in pain. I was at a loss for words. What can you say that would do anything but inflict an unnecessary reminder of her present anguish? As we watched one of the brothers-in-law help the widow walk down the aisle, the sight of her husband as she approached the casket brought more tears. Tears became weeping, and weeping soon became sobbing. What greater grief than to say goodbye to a loved one way before his intended time. An abrupt end to an earthly life (Ron was only 42), but a welcomed beginning to a joyful life in heaven. Keep looking up, I tell myself. Keep...looking up.