Breathing

I'm trying to stay away from the news, but I just can't.  It assaults me everywhere.  I was listening to the radio on my one, one, one day to Xmas shop without the kids, and I heard about a little girl about Anna's age dying in a car accident.  Her mother was driving.  Days before Christmas.  I picture her presents wrapped and under the tree.  I picture her excitement and parties and fun.  But, then she's gone.

I can think of no words, not even a prayer.  I remember driving and crying and screaming. 

Now, today, I happened upon the news and the mother of the little girl shot to death at the AZ shooting massacre was being interviewed by phone, and the mom's distraught voice tight and hard with grief still echoes in my ears.

And sadness fills my heart.

There is no pain greater on this planet than a parent losing a child.  None.

And, I revisit driving to my former coworker's son's viewing on Friday night, and attending my friend's son's funeral, and the Haiti blogs of children no longer here.  Death that comes too soon and too suddenly to children fills me with so much loss and hopelessness.

I try to turn to God, and I pray fervently for the parents left behind, but I still seek His hope.  His promise of hope, and it's hard to find it behind the cloud of grief and the tears shed too many.

So, I hug my children tighter, and relax more in the moments that would cause me stress.  I stroke their hair and brush their cheeks and cling to them. 

Life is fragile and short.