Driving to the closest Wal-Mart this evening gave me plenty of time to think. There’s a funeral tomorrow, and my heart is so heavy. I hurt for the family, especially the children. I realized as I drove that I have been grieving in increments—when I have some alone time, I ponder the unfairness of a family losing a husband and father in the prime of his life. When I am around others, I put my feelings in a box and shove it to the back of my mind.
People grieve in many different ways. Some openly cry and seek the company of others. I have always done my crying in private. I am a control freak, so I feel weak when others see me upset. I do my best to handle my business when I’m alone. Keep in mind that just because someone isn’t being demonstrative, that doesn’t indicate that the person lacks emotion.
One thing we know about life is that nobody gets out alive. Our rural community has been rocked by deaths in the last few months. Two awesome family men are being mourned. The community has been completely stunned by the losses.
The main question we have asked is, “Why?” We may never understand. I hate that feeling of helplessness that follows the news. How can we help the grieving family members? All that comes to mind is pray and “help them cry.”
The scariest part is that both men were seemingly healthy fellows. That just goes to show when death comes for us, we can’t say, “Can you come back later? I have some things to wrap up first.” Mourning our losses has brought us all closer to our own feelings about mortality. We have been forcefully reminded that when it’s our time to go, nothing can stop it. I plan to make every day count.