Blessed.

Life is precious. Life is fragile. Life can be taken in an instant. There was a painful reminder of that this week. A girl I graduated from college with lost her little boy, 20 months, in a tragic and freak accident. I did not know her well at all but from what I can gather, he was with a care taker playing in their yard when a tree branch fell on him. He had major injuries to his head and passed away within 24 hours. I do not understand why such a beautiful and innocent life was taken away. I cannot fathom what the parents are going through right now.

I was shaken to the core of my being. I couldn't stop thinking about this precious family and I prayed for them nonstop. I couldn't stop thinking about you and all the "what ifs." I know I can't keep you in a bubble. As much as I want to, I can't protect you from everything.

One of my favorite bloggers wrote this when a tragedy struck one of her friends:

"There will never be answers for so many of life's grandest questions, and the unsettling ground of "what if" will shake us as parents many times along this journey. And while pain does not flow well with what we all have in mind for our future and what we strive every to day to achieve, it is a part of this world and the great catalyst for challenging us to love bigger and better every day."


Today, I hugged you a little tighter. Covered you in kisses a little more. I read your favorite book to you each time you held it up for "more." I played with you every second I could. I drank your sweet spirit in and completely lived in the moment with you. Tomorrow, we will probably go about our regular routine, but today was ours. 


This blogger went on to say:

"The rawness of [this] reality will eventually fade, masking the uncomfortable feeling of vulnerability that's gripped me, and allowing myself to sink back into the mundane rhythms of daily life--to-do lists, projects, new shoes, new recipes, play-dates, wants, frustrations. Because our brains are not Bible bookstore plaques and, while it would be nice to be programmed to "Seize the Day" and "Enjoy the Small Things" at every given second, the Unimportant has its place too--balancing the defining moments, softening the blows. We need Unimportant. And, as crazy as it sounds, we need to forget once in awhile--to get lost in silly pleasures like shoes and lipstick, movies and books, planning trips and renovating bathrooms. Together, it brilliantly combines for a good life while we have our breath and allows the moments we do remember the importance of it all--moments like yesterday--to rise effortlessly to the top."

And I couldn't agree more.