My Uncle died Saturday morning. Suddenly, shockingly and devastatingly fast. Our family is in shock as anyone might be. He was 52, healthy, thriving, and full of life. And yet, here we all are, waiting to wake up from some kind of dream as deaths this sudden take some time to really settle in.
I got the call while I was out getting Tommy a haircut. My cousin's words of "My daddy is gone, my daddy is gone," still play back vividly in my mind. I nearly fell to my knees on the floor of Sports Clips and wailed and sobbed loudly. Everyone there stopped and surrounded me. Strangers hugged me and asked what they could do. A very kind man helped me to the car, strapped Jacob in to his carseat and paid for Tommy's haircut. I was grateful to experience the kindness of humanity that day.
We all made our way to my Aunt and Uncle's house. One by one, family by family, we all showed up. We spent the day huddled together. Crying in waves, recalling memories, making logistical plans, wondering if this was all real. We talked about how we always forget how precious life is until something like this happens. It's as if we all wake up from a daze and realize that traffic jams or your neighbor's annoying dogs or silly disagreements really don't matter at all, because if you lose your family, you've lost a piece of your heart that you can't ever get back. And how much of our lives we waste being "busy" when all of us threw all of our plans out the window that day and came together. Nothing else mattered but family then.
Saturday and Sunday I wanted to keep close. To have my people near me and where I could see them. I wanted to do nothing more than sit with all of my family - my parents, my sisters, my Grandparents and cousins and just be together, because it felt safe. Like nothing else can happen to us if we are all joined together as one.
For the handful of people that come here to read, I covet your prayers for our family. We rejoice, knowing that we have hope in Jesus, that we will see him again. And someday, there will be no more pain, no more tears, no more sudden goodbyes.
For now, we've circled the wagons. And together, we cry and grieve and ache, yet we don't despair as we look forward in faith to that very day.