breathe deep

It was a misty morning, fog lay thick in the low areas and in scattered patches on the road. I pulled out of my house early that morning, on my way to high school. It was my senior year and I took early classes to get out at lunch. I was never much of a morning person though. I drove down the street and flipped on my blinker to turn right. In front of me I vaguely noticed a truck in the left lane coming down the road. It was still too early for much traffic. I then saw it slamming on it’s brakes, the red lights like beacons in the misty darkness and I saw it hit something. The frail shape of a young girl flipped up, high, over the truck. She floated in the air for several long seconds before slamming into the pavement behind. I turned right and drove to school.

Later that day I drove home, went inside, ate and did my homework. I got ready to leave again and as I was in the driveway my dad walked over to me and told me that a young girl in our neighborhood was hit and killed by a truck that morning. I burst into hysterics.

———–

Grief is strange. The way our bodies protect our brain from traumatic events is strange. It’s so different for everyone. Sometimes it’s a hot poker in our hearts, making us vomit uncontrollably and other times it’s a steady beating ache that drives us crazy.

I’m grieving for a family that lost their little girl yesterday in the same manner I saw 10 years ago. I ache for the grief that they feel today, the numbness and insanity of loss. I don’t know them very well, but I know they were the best kind of people. They loved deeply. They served sacrificially. Their name was a treasure in the hearts of those who knew them.

I mourn for their family. I mourn for her sister that saw her get hit. I mourn for the college boy who hit her and was vomiting uncontrollably until he was arrested. I mourn for the people around who saw such a beautiful life taken so violently.

These are the things that can’t be understood. The times where you lay numbly on your bed and all you can do is tell yourself to breathe because that is all you can control. Each second an eternal life time. My heart is with them and I’m praying for this family now, please join me.