by Ginger on June 12, 2010

in Random

I had this post all written out in my head today–a vent about the difficulties of being a working parent and how frustrating it can be to try and do the “activities” that I find are mostly mid-day, mid-week. We had some errands to run and things to do and then I was going to write that post.

And then I got a phone call. And now, I can’t write that other post.

Because today, a family friend lost her 16 year old boy. The story isn’t mine to tell, but the circumstances around the disappearance, loss, and discovery are horrific. They are things no one, no parent, no mother, no brother, no father, no ANYONE, should have to suffer. They are the stories you hear in movies or tv shows. They shouldn’t be real life.

My mom is there for this friend–to answer and place phone calls, to keep reporters at arms length, to try, TRY desperately, to hold this friend together. To keep her from collapsing under the weight of this thing. None of us are sure it’s possible.

I’m sorry this post is so heavy. I’m not trying to be emotionally manipulative, but I can’t not write about this in some way. This is someone I’ve known my whole life. It’s in my head. I keep reaching for Jackson–to kiss his head, to wipe the hair away from his eyes, to grab his fingers. I keep wanting to pull him close, say “not you, never you.” I look at his sweet smile and his chubby thighs and his twinkling eyes and I hope and pray and would give everything I own in the world to protect him from such a tragic, early horrific ending. I know she would have too–but she couldn’t. And now I hope that she has the strength to continue on without him, with the knowledge that she has. I can’t imagine sitting in her shoes right now. I can’t imagine her pain at losing her son at all, let alone in such a horrific way.

Today, there is no complaining about being a working mom, or a busy mom, or a stressed and clueless mom. Today I’m just going to be oh, so grateful that I am a mom. I’m going to laugh with my little boy, and hug him close and recognize how blessed I am that he’s in my life. Because today, someone else lost that blessing and I realized how fragile and fleeting life has the potential to be.

The Vamp Tramp June 12, 2010 at 7:10 pm

That’s just awful. My thoughts and prayers are with the family. Now, I think I’ll go hug my mom.

Mama Lungo June 13, 2010 at 8:23 am

oh, I am so sorry and hurting for your friend. She and her family will be in my thoughts and prayers. Hug your little guy tight. I am off to kiss my sleeping babies.

Perpetua June 13, 2010 at 11:36 am

I’m so sorry for your friend, and for you. It stops being possible to pretend that sort of stuff doesn’t happen when it lands so close to your door. Take care.

Accidents June 13, 2010 at 2:53 pm

I’m so sorry to hear this news. It’s so hard to see those close to us in so much pain, especially now that you have your own son and can empathize more painfully. Thinking of you.

Megan June 13, 2010 at 6:29 pm

I’m glad you got your feelings off your chest. I am very sorry for your friend. I just can’t imagine that kind of pain. And, I agree with Perpetua about it being so hard to ignore when a tragedy like that happens so close to you. So scary.

I’ll be thinking of you and your friend.

Lizzie June 14, 2010 at 10:13 am

I am so sorry that you’re going through this; and my thoughts are with his family and friends. Such an awful thing to happen to someone so young 🙁

Elizabeth June 14, 2010 at 10:34 am

How sad–I know that is a worst nightmare come true. I’m so sorry your friend has to endure this.

Alias Mother June 14, 2010 at 12:03 pm

The worst realization of parenting, I think, is finally understanding that every tragedy has behind it someone’s chubby-thighed, twinkly-eyed baby. It brings a whole new harshness to every death, especially those that come too early.

My best to you and your friend.

Nilsa @ SoMi Speaks June 14, 2010 at 1:38 pm

I’m so sorry about this news. I think it’s times like these that put our lives in perspective. Help us see more clearly what’s important and what really isn’t. Thinking of you…

Comments on this entry are closed.

Previous post:

Next post: