Sometimes life is the worst. As I prepared for an amazing trip to Utah with friends, I forgot something at the house and turned around to get it. When I saw a lot of my best friend next door on a Thursday
morning, I knew something was going on. I Well, I got the news that my friend and neighbor Harold died prematurely. As I hugged Michelle his wife just saying no no no and held her face my heart broke. As I hugged her 13 year old daughter and told her I’d always be here my heart cracked more. The heaviness is insane. I don’t want any more people to join the young widow club. It’s not right. The community around this family is strong and generous and so multi-faceted that I have no doubt that everyone will make it through it even though no one will get over this. But as I sit here on this plane crying my eyes out next to a stranger, I feel crushed. Crushed for a life ending too soon. Crushed that I have to tell my daughter that another important male in her life is gone too soon. I’m crushed for his babies. There’s no right age to lose a dad but seven and thirteen is too young or too old or just not right! I’m crushed for Michelle who I know will be stronger than imaginable. Who will navigate this grief with a badassness that she always possesses. I’m crushed for his best friends. I’m crushed for everyone effected by the ripples of this loss, who had to find out today, who were involved in any way.
It was an impossible decisions but our group made the choice to still head to Utah because we know the family is surrounded. It’s hard being so far away when I just want to be present. We also felt that Harold would want us to come. He loved hiking. So while out here I’m committed to appreciating the life I get to live. Remembering all the good about Harold. Grieving. Loving everyone close to me even more than I already do. Finding the beauty even in the common things of life.
I know I’m struggling to understand the purpose behind such heavy and sudden loss. Maybe there’s a reason I moved next door to the Skids. Maybe there’s a reason I’m supposed to be out here in Utah so I can come in as the second wave of support. Maybe there is a peace I’m supposed to find out in nature. I don’t know. All I know is that crushing blow is tough on everyone involved. I know this loss will be felt. I know people will show up and continue to show up on the days, weeks, months and years to come.
I would love to see the interaction of Brian meeting Harold for the first time and thanking him for being so good to Harper. For excitedly giving her Christmas presents that he picked out himself. For ignoring a football game in order to play with her in the pool for hours even when I wouldn’t. For stepping up to take care of us by mowing the yard the day we moved in, randomly fertilizing my yard just because he was doing his, or just thanking him for sitting and having a glass of wine with me on my driveway while the kids played. I’d also love to see Brian give him shit for Harold wearing lightning bolt leggings during our hurricane party and actually thinking they were comfortable or tying up his lightning bolt tank for Cancer Smash and rocking it!
I know I don’t get to understand the why. and I can’t make the heaviness disappear. But I do know that I get to witness again the overwhelming goodness of people. The insane generosity of a community. The amazing resilience of little kids. The fierceness of a widow doing whatever she can for her family. The grace of a community. And I get to be reminded to truly tell everyone exactly what I love about this every day and all the time.
