While all the good writers are journaling, I'm blogging instead. Mostly because my favorite journal has been taken hostage and I don't negotiate with terrorists. Or it's fallen behind my headboard to the land of lost items. You know, whatever.
I cried in front of my children tonight, even the peace loving "fixer" who hates when I'm upset. I cried because life hurts today. My friend's husband died a couple of days ago and tonight was the public visitation. I cannot make it to the funeral so I wanted to be sure to make it to the visitation to give my condolences in person.
This man leaves a widow and three daughters aged 11-17. My son stole his first kiss from one of those girls when they were 3. Her daddy stopped me and in his deep voice and intimidating police officer posture says "We need to talk. There's a rumor that your son kissed my little girl." He even told my son no kissing his daughter. It's a story that lives in memory and in often retelling in our home.
I hugged my friend tight. I told her I love her. I gave my condolences. I listened as she told me about his last moments when he said he could see Jesus and grandma waiting for him. I hugged her daughter. I viewed the shell of a once great man and fought the tears back.
I made it home with the tears in check. But when I walked in they began flowing freely. I curled up next to Hubby and sobbed. My boys came and hugged me and asked if I was ok. I was honest. No, I'm sad and overwhelmed. My friend's husband died and my heart hurts. I still believe God is good even when life isn't which is good because right now life doesn't feel very good.
They hugged me tightly and then returned to movie watching. I don't regret them seeing me cry even though it made one rather uncomfortable. They need to see that sometimes life hurts and that's ok. They need to know that I can ache inside and still trust that God is good. And they need to see that death is part of living and it's ok to grieve when death intersects with our lives.
Now if I could only find that journal....