A Rash of Tragedy

I want to explain to my readers why I have neglected my blog for so long. About 6 months ago, my husband's friend in his 40s died from a battle with brain cancer. A month or so later on a Friday, I attended 2 funerals. One, a dear friend in her early 90s, who left me all of her beautiful clothing. The second, a 23 year old man who died suddenly in a car wreck, who left behind a young wife. The next day, my sister called saying, "You need to get over to Grandma's house, because Grandpa is probably dead."

What is "probably" dead? Well, Grandma had come home to find him napping, but was unable to wake him. Moments later the fire department had arrived to the scene and I received a call from my brother, who was out of state on a jobsite. He confirmed that Grandpa had indeed died. My husband & I were only a few blocks from the house. Everyone seemed to arrive at once--mom, sister, aunt, sheriff. The coroner arrived shortly thereafter.


He had been up for breakfast, and had shut up the house, turned down the covers, and laid down on the bed for a nap (he frequently took naps). It was a rough patch for all of us, but at some point a friend of the family joked that he would've preferred to die with his boots on. Unfortunately, it is difficult to die in your bed and with your boots on.

Most recently, my aunt was killed in an airplane crash. Several other acquaintences died within this time frame. And it seemed that I would never have another funeral-free weekend again.

My faith in the resurrection has kept me on my feet and functioning despite the multiple losses I've suffered.

The most difficult part is forcing aside your own grief in the presence of friends and family suffering the same losses. It seems that your own internal grief could be endured, but being in setting after setting, funeral parlor after funeral parlor, witnessing the tears of so many others is nearly unbearable.