I'm forewarning you, this post is going to be a tough one. Sad, depressing, all of the negative words you can come up with: this is it. So if you're having a bad day, or don't want to ruin a good one, skip this post and come back to it later.
This morning I had to have my first ever filling on my virgin teeth. I was traumatized as a child when it comes to needles being in my mouth, and it probably wouldn't surprise you that I cried the entire way through the ten-minute procedure, even though I couldn't feel anything. When half of your face is numb enough that eating and drinking is out of the question, it's a given that you feel like shit. No way around it, really. So I came home and wanted to do something to hopefully make myself feel better. The only thing I could think of was to dig around in my box of über-nice yarn and find a project for it. Typical.
I sat down on the couch and opened my laptop to peruse Ravelry for a project to start. Almost automatically, I opened Facebook to check that at the same time. At the top of my news feed I saw something that froze me. Literally. One of my friends had posted, "R.I.P. daddy". I grew up with this girl. She and her family lived directly across the street from me for part of elementary school and all of middle school. When I think back on my childhood, I think of the days and nights we would spend playing in the street, or competing with their mom at Boggle (who ALWAYS won, no matter how many times we played), knitting on the sidewalk, or going to Disneyland for my first time with them. I consider myself having grown up with this family.
So to hear that their dad was killed in a car accident yesterday is something I literally cannot even get my head around. I have been staring at my computer screen for over an hour, reading and rereading the article that was written about the crash, trying to make sense of what I'm seeing. This is not the first time I've experienced death, if that's what you're thinking. This is the first time I've experienced it with someone whom I had spoken to and interacted with on a daily basis. I don't think there was a single time I was greeted by him and there was not a smile on his face nor a chuckle in his voice as he said hello. Never. That was the kind of personality he had. To think that is just... gone - I mean, I can't even.
This is what I'm trying to say. Right now, give your husband or wife or son or daughter or best friend a hug and tell them how much they mean to you. Because you may never get the chance to do so again. Life is not a guarantee. It is a privilege, and I implore you to treat it as such. xx