I will be writing in the quiet moments of life the rest of this week, but I hope that much of it will be spent with family.
“The driver was pronounced dead at the scene. The name is being with held pending family notification.”
I’ve read that on many news articles. I’ve never been on the receiving end. I, truthfully, wasn’t this time, but it was my cousin on that page, a sweet strawberry-blonde teen, just starting out, so full of life and joy.
Now, there is a hole where her joy used to be. Where I’d look forward to seeing her at family events. I will still look for her, remember her, but she won’t respond to my please.
She will rest in peace, I believe. But those who knew and loved her will always hurt from the loss.
I know I will always wonder why, even though I know there is no answer coming for my questions.
I wonder what was lost with her. What were her secrets that she never told? What were her experiences with life? With love? What did she long to let someone know? What were her secret dreams?
Everything goes in a circle. I hear the news, I wonder why and I cry. And I wish there were a way to get her back.
Eventually the sadness subsides as I realize there is no why, or no answer to my question. So I get quiet and numb and I distract myself. But the news comes around again from an outer or inner reminder.
I know it won’t always feel so raw. I wish there were more I could do for those who are hurting much more than I am. I wish I could take some of their pain.