When I was
29 months 7 months pregnant with our second child, we had an uncharacteristic heat wave that made staying home unbearable. Sitting around in our underwear helped but we didn’t want to scare our kid, the neighbors or the mailman. Luckily, it was the start of a weekend-in-the-middle-of-the-week (hospital employees often don’t have normal weekends) and SuperDad whisked us away to the coast. Three hours in the car made a huge difference as we watched the degrees plummet on our digital thermometer. The Washington coast on the Olympic peninsula was much cooler. In fact, it was a little bit cold there — we had to put a sweatshirt on MM, who had a great time playing on the beach and in the car. The respite from the heat was such a big treat that I still have fond memories of the trip even with the small matter of the skunk that tried to sleep with us that night.
Less than 18 years later, my happy-go-lucky boy was a little too confident with his own driving on a dark and rainy night. In what I see as miraculous each time I look at the photos (go here if you really want to see them) , he walked away with only scratches after totaling a car.
Not everyone is that lucky. I got a call on Sunday morning, letting me know that the MIL and FIL of one of my closest friends had been in a fatal car accident. My dear friend ~P~ has been through some terrible experiences in her life; losing her dear parents-in-law ranks up there among the worst of those experiences. I am under a heavy cloud of sadness. I can’t begin to understand why some people go through admittedly unfair amounts of suffering. Since I know there are no answers to that question, I won’t beat my head against the wall in trying to understand.
So here I sit, nearly 3,000 miles away, helpless to do anything. And remembering that life is precious.