My Heart Hurts

My heart is so heavy right now.  This is going to be one of those posts that probably doesn't make much sense because I'm writing to get it all out and running on pure emotion here.  I want to start by saying that sometimes completely shitty things happen to the best people and it's times like these that make me question everything I know about faith and karma and goodness. 

Bailey's "boyfriend" Max lost his father on Sunday.  I don't know the circumstances or the details surrounding his death, but I do know that he left behind a wonderful family.  A wife who is one of the sweetest women and most patient mothers I know.  A son who is also sweet and energetic, and who my daughter gets all giggly and blushing when she talks about.  And who is also old enough to understand that his daddy gone but not yet old enough to understand the how's and why's of it all.  A daughter who, at 8 months old, doesn't know what's going on. 

I didn't know him, but I do know his kids and his wife Meghan and I are friends.  They're good people.  And good people are hard to find these days, and they don't deserve this.  I spoke with Meghan briefly last night via text, and she's so much stronger right now than I would be.  Too strong.  Admirably, and worryingly, strong...and she really doesn't have the choice to be anything else because there are two little people looking to her for comfort, to find out how to act right now, for answers.  I hope she is able to grieve on her own and in her own way. 

A few years ago, another friend and the mother of one of my preschoolers, lost her husband to cancer.  He was diagnosed on a Sunday and died the following Tuesday and, just like Max's dad,  I took it so much harder than I had any right to.  I didn't know him well either, but I knew his wife.  I knew his kids, and I loved them like my own, and I ached for all of them daily.  I couldn't stop thinking about how young all of them were and how unfair it was that they'd gotten so robbed of all the years of happiness that they were supposed to share together.  I remember wanting to help in any way that I could, and also not wanting to be an intrusive pain in the ass about it.  I wanted so badly to eloquently tell my friend how sorry I was for her and how amazed I was by her strength and how in awe I was of her ability to continue to be such a fantastic mother while grieving the loss of her husband.  But every time I saw her this wave of sadness hit me and I just kept thinking, I can't imagine. 

I'm not eloquent.  I don't have the words to tell people how sorry I am when things like this happen without coming across as an unfeeling moron.  I feel the emotions more than I will ever let on, but I'm not graceful enough with language to convey the message.  But, oh, does my heart break.

I'm sorry for your loss doesn't seem to cover it, but I am.  I'm sorry.  And I hurt for you.  And I'm here for you in whatever way you need me to be.  I'm sending up so many prayers and so much love for all of you, and I hope that on some level you can feel it.