Heavy Heart

I've been toiling over this blog post since last week. I don't really know how to put into words, the things that I want to say. I've been fairly lucky I suppose. I've never lost a parent, brother, sister, or best friend to cancer, but typing those words just now makes the superstitious side of me break out into a cold sweat as if I've just alerted the monster that there is a tiny little spot of humanity that he hasn't attacked...and it is tiny. My brother can't say the same thing. He lost his best friend just a few weeks ago. Dude can't say that either. His mom was taken from this earth 5 years before I met him, and it makes me furious that I will never know the woman that raised the man who means everything in this world to me. 

I know that what I'm feeling right now is certainly not unique, but since hearing the news last week that another shining light (I don't know how else to describe her) has been extinguished, I can't stop thinking about it.

My heart just aches for 

• Every child that has to grow up without the warm embrace of his mother or father.
• Every parent who won't see their child graduate from high school, get married, or have babies of their own.
• Every sister and brother who will live the rest of their lives feeling incomplete.
• Every husband who will have to learn way more than he ever wanted to about baby dolls, hair bows, make-up, and bras, because there is no one else to lean on as their little girls are growing up.
• Every wife who musters the strength to carry her family through the darkest days they will ever know.
• Every friend who wishes they had just one more day, just one more chance, to share a laugh and say I love you.

I wish I could have one more minute with each of these precious souls to tell them how their existence has impacted my life either directly or by impacting the life of someone so special to me that I thank God for them everyday even though we never met. But I suppose that's selfish, isn't it? Their suffering is over, and I'm thankful for that too.