Tuesday, January 24, 2012

When a Child is Here...and Then They Are Not

Before Finn was diagnosed with leukemia, I didn't really think about kids dying.

And then, unfortunately, we saw it all too often.

It's horrible on every level.

Let's face it: death in and of itself isn't the greatest, but there are different levels of grieving and horribleness when someone dies. It was incredibly sad when my three grandparents died (I've got one still alive and kicking madly at 98!) at their various ages, but they had all lived long, full lives--we should all be so lucky. I hope I'M that lucky, in fact.

But when a child dies. Well, I'm at a loss.

Yesterday morning as Declan sat crunching his Honey Nut Cheerios, we had the unhappy task of telling him that a boy from his school died on Sunday. A 13-year old boy he knew, who was one year ahead of him at his very small school, died in an inbound avalanche at the same time we were enjoying a fantastic family ski day.

I cannot wrap my head around this tragedy. This family is from our end of the valley--our town. We have many mutual friends. This boy went to Declan's school. I saw his mother in the post office last week. We were skiing at that very time (different mountain). And now they are grieving.

It could be anyone. I thought maybe I was over that "so close to home" sensation that I experienced so often when Finn was sick (and even now), but apparently that doesn't ever really go away. It just takes on different forms.

Hug your kids. And be grateful today.

Thursday, January 5, 2012

I Am Almost Brilliant

I have to tell you, I am the most brilliant blogger at about 11pm when I'm going to bed. But you'll never actually know this.


I get in bed. I turn off the light. I settle in. And then a whole bunch of blogging ideas come to me. And I think, "That would make the funniest blog. I'll blog about it tomorrow."

Then I go to sleep and when I wake up the next morning, if I even remember that I had a good idea, I have no idea what it was. What was that? What WAS that?

Drives me nuts.

A few years ago I did start keeping a pen and paper next to my bed for such situations. Where that really came in handy was when I went to bed and then thought of things I needed to do for work the next day. I found quickly jotting things down helped me clear my head and be able to sleep.

So then I figured I should do the same thing for potential blog topics. If I had an amazing idea as I went to sleep, I could quickly write it down so I could be witty upon awakening.

But here's the thing: I feel bad about turning the light back on and waking up Eamonn. So I decided I would write my notes to myself in the dark.

But here's the thing: I've discovered I can't really read what I wrote in the dark. Imagine that.

If I did write about what I wrote, today you would apparently have read something to do with trash cans. Alas, I'm not really sure what about trash cans I was planning to discuss with you. Also, someone's name, I'm not sure whose, is on my note page. Was I planning to blog about someone in the trash can? Am I looking for a way to dispose of a body?

(Note: According to the show Live with Kelly, how to dispose of a body is one of the top questions people ask Siri on their iPhone 4s. Maybe I was planning on doing this in my sleep. Whether it's me or someone else, the whole thought is disturbing on many levels. Can you imagine, "Siri, where can I dispose of a body? And while you're at it, how should I make sure I don't get caught?" What the heck?)

One thing is clear: I need a new system. Again. Perhaps I should put a headlamp next to my bed. Or just turn on the light.