no discrimination.

If there's one lesson that's been driven home over and over again, it is this: tragedy does not discriminate.  When Aaron received his diagnosis, of course we were devastated, but realized that if it wasn't him, it'd be someone else.  There is no discrimination.  This past week, my heart has been heavy for a friend of mine.  Her two daughters are my children's ages.  They live close.  Our eldest are in several of the same activities. We're the same age. What I love about her and her daughters is that they are so honest and upfront.  You know where you stand with them.  You know what they think.  I appreciate that.  Long story short, her husband passed away very unexpectedly last week.  Just didn't wake up.  Obviously, my heart broke for them... all of them.  I can't/couldn't get them out of my head.  They have been in every waking thought I've had.  Wondering where they are, what they're doing, how they're holding up.  If a certain thought has hit them yet.  If they've been able to sleep.  The list goes on and on.  Tragedy doesn't discriminate.  Thoughts keep running through my head, "A day ago...," "A week ago...," "A month ago...," "Three years ago..."  When I think about how quickly things can change, I'm stopped in my tracks.  I know one thing (for me at least), experiencing tragedy sure makes me lay the petty thoughts aside so much faster.  I'm not as hung up on the things that won't matter a day from now, a week from now, a month from now, three years from now.  I am thankful for that.  I also experience a lot of frustration at those who do get so wrapped up in the petty of life now.  I heard my friend say something as we waited in line at the visitation that I've said myself, "You don't realize how many people have been through this too until you do it.  It's like a club that I didn't want to join, but I find myself surrounded by others in."  No discrimination.  Enjoy your time.  Take care of yourself.  Do your best.  Make decisions that you can live with long-term.  Breathe through the bad.  Help others.  Stop judging.  Practice love.  Find God.  
Something that they told me in the hospital in those final days with Aaron that I hated them for then, but I almost get now was, "He'll always be with you."  I wanted to slap them.  I truly did.  I could visualize the claw marks from my vicious attack.  I didn't {of course}, but my mental life is much more colorful than my real one.  It kinda burns me to say they were right.  That may not be true for everyone, but it sure is for me.  I don't have illusions that Aaron is here with me.  I'm happy to report that he's safe and sound with Christ.  I do feel him though.  I hear his wisdom.  I see his smiles and frustrations.  I feel his touch.  I guess that's another way that death can't win.  If someone is in Christ, they never truly die.  I'm still keeping my angry eyes about the situation though.  Nothing feels right in my world with my compass gone.