I have been neglectful of my blog... but that's OK. It's because I've NOT been neglecting other areas of my life right now. So you can tell me I suck at blogging, and I can admit defeat there, and we move on. Mmmkay?
Some big things have happened lately. Monkey moved from the crib to a "big-girl" toddler bed on 6/18 and I cried like a big teething baby to see the crib come apart. But she's happy, and this needed to happen, and holy CRAP is it a cute toddler bed. It even has a shimmering pink canopy. So that part's all good.
I had a birthday too, complete with a super-yummy cake home-made (well...from a box, but still, made AT home which counts) and decorated by Monkey and her Daddy. Love on a plate, folks: hard to beat.
Recovering from the whirlwind of that, plus working back-to-back Saturdays (it's busy season for financial aid, and new student orientation season as well) had me a bit flustered and out of my normal pace.
Then yesterday, I came across something that stole my breath away.
Checking my Facebook feed while my reports were running, I saw a comment come across. My really close friend from grade school now lives in South Carolina with her new-ish husband and their daughter. Her ex-husband still lives around here, with their teenaged son.
I saw on his feed a comment wishing their son godspeed, and how he will miss him.
I thought, "Oh- so he must be off to visit his mom for the summer."
Not at all.
Their seventeen year old son went to sleep... and didn't wake up.
I couldn't believe it. Started FB stalking and a new group popped up, for his parents, and all these heartbroken people are writing tributes to him, and oh-this-isn't-happening... but it is.
A parent's greatest fear is losing their child.
I'm watching that unfold.
And truly, I can't really DO much. I can go to the wake (and I will) and I can hug my friend till I break her ribs, but I can't really *DO* much. I am trembling and there have been lots of tears.
All I wanted yesterday was to hug my baby girl. I am blessed beyond words that I GET to do that.
Remind yourself, when your kids are fighting and whining and life is kicking you in the shin:
You *GET* to see those kids, in all their fighting-shoving-wailing glory.
It is all too reminiscent of how my brother passed. Just went to sleep... and then, gone.
But my brother was at least 38, had gotten more of a taste of life-- though still, not enough. He had medical issues plaguing him.
This was a healthy, athletic, YOUNG man.
Pray for his family, for his little sister who is going to grow up without her big brother. For all the misfits and picked-on kids that Tim looked out for, and spoke up for. Just like his mom did, for me, when we were kids. He will be horribly missed and he is incredibly loved.
Kiss the people you love goodnight.