Slow and Somber

It's a slow and quiet Friday, even though most of the people are in the office today. I have the Christmas piano music playing on the computer right now, keeping things a bit mellow and relaxed. Hope I don't drift off to sleep here...

Our office manager received some bad news yesterday. One of her son's best friends is serving in the military in Iraq, and collapsed the other day of a massive stroke. He was transported to the military hospital in Germany, and the military sent for his wife and parents to fly over to be with him. Today, the family received news: "Don't come. There is no brain activity." Arrangements are now being made for this man's brother (currently serving in the military in Afghanistan) to fly to Germany to disconnect the life support machines.

This man was only 30, and apparently he leaves a wife and two children behind. Just Sunday, he was talking to his son on the telephone when his son said "Dad, you need to come home soon. I'm getting tired of being the man of the house!" How heart-wrenching to think that though his dad will be home within days, it certainly won't be as he had imagined. The wife had just barely won a difficult battle with cancer earlier this year. Some people call her recovery miraculous, and then to have this happen. Just being a fly on the wall in this whole thing, it weighs on me.

When I was 12, I lost a grandmother to heart failure. Later that year, I lost all semblance of a normal life as my parents began divorce proceedings that would last for nine months and then spark ten years of court battles. So not only did my grandmother leave me, but in essence, so did both of my parents as they turned their attention to new partners.

I swore up and down that when I had a family of my own, I would never leave them. I could never let my beautiful children go through the hell that I had lived through. But how do you fight against an enemy like terminal illness, or a stroke? Or an accident?

My heart goes out to this family. I can't really say that the timing of this death is ironic or tragic, but rather interesting. In a season where those of us who are still politically incorrect celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, it is notable that He is the lone historic figure that overcomes death and is resurrected, giving man hope for life past the grave.

My Christmas wish is that none of my friends or family (or any of you that read this blog) will have to experience such a loss this year. Happy Hanukkah, Happy Kwanzaa, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!