2/21/06

i cannot believe how fragile life is.  every time i get a reminder of it, i still can’t believe it. 

i cannot begin to fathom what craig and allison must be feeling.  not to loose one parent.  not to loose both.  to loose both parents and a fifteen year old brother, and have a grandmother in critical condition.  lost.  confused.  victimized for nothing.  angry.  beyond words in anger at god.  so damn unfair so damn unfair.  why why why i dont have words there are no words this is not something that can be expressed in the english language.  in any language.  in any amount of tears or screams or pulling out  of hair or nashing of teeth or throwing and kicking and tearing apart.  it’s not even my grief.  it’s not even my place.  but why do these things happen?  because there was a patch of ice on the road?  because someone looked away for a second to change the station?  or answer a cell phone?  or smile at their child in the passenger seat? 

a nineteen-year-old child and a twenty-year-old child now will live the rest of their lives with more grief than many ever encounter in their whole lives.  her parents won’t be there to beam with pride as she crosses the stage at her graduation, and enters the real world.  his parents won’t be there to take him out on his twenty first birthday, and pretend under a mutual understanding of ritual that it’s the first time he’s tasted alcohol.  her father won’t be there to walk her down the asile.  his mother won’t be there to teach his fiance how to become a part of their family.  their little brother won’t be there to learn from their example.  he won’t be there to be picked on and loved and to look up to his big brother and sister, wanting so much to be just like them.  or nothing like them.  but loving them and learning from them all the same.  their family of five is now a family of two.  and no one, but no one can understand what craig and allison feel right now and for the rest of their lives, but craig and allison.  they are completely alone.  almost.  at least they have each other.  and maybe their faith.  a big empty house in their parent’s names.  three cars, two pets, a lawn mower, a mailbox.  bills in their parent’s names, credit cards, blockbuster memberships.  gravestones for three.  and two children to plan a funeral, a wake, the rest of their lives.  no one to check up to see if they made it home safely.  if they are hanging out with the right crowd, if they are back before curfew.  no one to worry about who they are dating, whether they are having sex, whether they are drinking.  no expectations to live up to, no footsteps to follow in, no one to call on sundays.  no more family dinners no more bickering between three siblings, no more fighting over who has to sit in the middle seat.  no more "my parents just don’t understand me" no more "they let him get away with everything" no more no more no more no more.  god damn it.  god fucking damn it. 

everything will be different for them forever.  i’m trying so hard to have faith.   i’m trying so hard to know that they will survive, that they will be ok, that god is with them, that they are NOT competely alone, that they still have good friends, extended family, and a strong community.  that life must go on.  it must.  but mostly, when i’m really honest, all i can think is, thank god it isn’t me. 

i can’t imagine, i can’t.  i don’t want to.  it’s just too hard.  god be with craig and allison.