Death

I just learned that a high school classmate had passed away this morning. And although this was not someone I was particularly close with, I knew him. And the fact that he was here yesterday and gone today really made me think, and ultimately, turned me into a sobbing mess.

My first reaction was just how fragile life is. And from there, I moved to feel very lucky to have not lost any close friends or family members, and also for my own health & that of my daughter. I don't think I could love anyone as much as I love that little girl, and knowing that sometime next week a mother will have to bury her child just haunts me. My daughter is 2, her son was atleast 23; I can't imagine the memories they have made over the years and the pain she must be suffering, and that is only in comparison with the barely 2 year time frame I have had with my own child. The thought of losing her brings me to instant tears.

Then, my thoughts moved to the last time I saw my grandfather. I was the last person he spoke anything recognizable to: "I love you". I knew he'd hate to see me cry; it was one of the first things he said to my mother when he learned his cancer treatments weren't working: "what about Lauren? what about the grandchildren?" So, I bit my lip and looked up at the ceiling to try and avoid the dam in my eyes from breaking and allowing the waterfall to come crashing down. "I love you, too", I managed. I'd do anything to have Eric meet him, to have him back.

And as my emotional night came to an end, Eric and I got into a small argument leading us to sleep back to back instead of in my usual "nook", and after about 10 minutes of laying there in silence I couldn't take it. I moved his sleeping, heavy arm around my body and lay my head on his chest. I silently listened to his heart beating and as tears began to roll down my cheek, over my nose, and onto him, I got up to write this blog. It was a sign of life. Something that my high school classmate no longer has, and something I am ever so grateful to listen to in the chest of the man I love most in this world.

It's tragedies like this that really put things in perspective sometimes. That argument we just had was nothing compared to the thought of losing him, and so, now that this is off my mind and onto paper (or laptop), I'll crawl back into bed, and take my position in my nook, where I can hear the life of my future husband beating.