Life is so fragile

Today I got a call from my friend that was not good news. One of our friend's son was killed in a car wreck last night.

He was 23. He was happy, life of the party, always kissed his mama good bye and good night, was polite and a gentleman. He loved life and enjoyed the things he did to the fullest. Many times his mother would fret over decisions he made or the things he did and all the while he was content and happy to be ridin' the ride. He never showed any anger toward anyone and would drop what he was doing to help someone out. My kids loved him. He would wrestle with them, let them hang all over him and always do whatever he was doing "just one more time". He had grown and matured into someone we were all proud to know.

How does a mother say good bye to a child? How does a mother face the fact that she will never see his eyes light up again? How does a mother deal with never seeing his happy smile coming around the corner? How does a mother bury her son? A son, so full of life and dreams. A son that was a total mama's boy even when she was ready for him to go face the world on his own.

This is my second close friend that has had to bury a child. And there are no words for the pain you watch them go through.

And whether you want it to or not is affects you deeply. On a mother level. On a "Please God don't let it happen to me" level.

I have had a couple of glimpses of near death with Rowdy One. One when he was 9 months old and had a blood thing they never figured out but thought was leukemia for awhile and we had to go through tests and tests before it was ruled out. And another time with Rowdy One, not even 6 months ago when he was found at the bottom of a friend's pool. No pulse, CPR revived him. He came to and screamed for his mommy. Close calls. Brushes with death. A glance at life without him. It almost killed me. My anxiety still gets the best of me sometimes. How would I survive the death of a child?

How does one cope, sleep, breath, for God's sake. How does one get up and put one foot in front of the other. I know they do, I have seen them do it. But how?

Tonight I will do what I do in times like this. Hold them a little extra tighter and longer. Tell them I love them and smile through the tears. Smell the tops of their little boy heads. Pick their growing bodies up and carry them to bed. Tuck them in a little snugger and lay down with them till they fall asleep. Watch them sleep, breath and dream. That is what I will do. This is what I do at a time like this, because I don't know what else to do.

Please say a prayer for my friend tonight,

Lyn