Last things
Hubby came home from his hour and a half commute and totally needed time with me and the boys. He had heard and read about the man who lost his family in the Marine Corps jet crash in San Diego: his wife, 36, their two daughters, 15 months and 2 months (2 months, Hubby kept saying) and his mother-in-law, 60.
Read the story here.
For this man who has literally lost everything to ask us to pray for the pilot is so noble.
It always makes Hubby and I weak-kneed when we hear stories like this. We wept copious tears after this year's earthquake in China, and how parents waited and wailed amid the rubble of their children's school.
You think your kids would be safe in school. You assume the safest place for your wife and little girls would be your own home.
Hubby and I always say "I love you," at least once a day, and always before parting.
Read the story here.
For this man who has literally lost everything to ask us to pray for the pilot is so noble.
It always makes Hubby and I weak-kneed when we hear stories like this. We wept copious tears after this year's earthquake in China, and how parents waited and wailed amid the rubble of their children's school.
You think your kids would be safe in school. You assume the safest place for your wife and little girls would be your own home.
Hubby and I always say "I love you," at least once a day, and always before parting.
There's pain nearer our home too. We have heard of two separations this month, close to us, one between a beloved uncle and aunt. The death of a marriage hangs heavy too.
Looking at my 3-year-old son happily savoring his Fruit Rollup, I know there's lots of beauty and goodness and nobility in this world. I remember my English Lit professor telling us Jungian concepts of death and rebirth, of walking the labyrinth and of heroes reborn. Listening to him, I remember feeling hopeful and almost euphoric, like I was newly discovering an ancient truth. YES.
Where is that young mother now with her two children, and her own mother? Are they still around? Can they send a message of peace to the husband and father they left behind? When you think of people who knew they were dying, you're comforted that somehow they were able to say goodbye, to prepare. But I imagine that young mother was probably talking to her mom, probably discussing how different her 2-month-old is compared to her big sister, or how Grandma cannot put cereal in the baby's milk to make her sleep better. Little things.
She brought the baby out with her when she kissed her husband goodbye that day, out in the driveway.
Last things.
Looking at my 3-year-old son happily savoring his Fruit Rollup, I know there's lots of beauty and goodness and nobility in this world. I remember my English Lit professor telling us Jungian concepts of death and rebirth, of walking the labyrinth and of heroes reborn. Listening to him, I remember feeling hopeful and almost euphoric, like I was newly discovering an ancient truth. YES.
Where is that young mother now with her two children, and her own mother? Are they still around? Can they send a message of peace to the husband and father they left behind? When you think of people who knew they were dying, you're comforted that somehow they were able to say goodbye, to prepare. But I imagine that young mother was probably talking to her mom, probably discussing how different her 2-month-old is compared to her big sister, or how Grandma cannot put cereal in the baby's milk to make her sleep better. Little things.
She brought the baby out with her when she kissed her husband goodbye that day, out in the driveway.
Last things.
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