Time to Come Ashore

This summer I have felt like I'm drifting at sea. Aimlessly floating on the water and vulnerable to the winds of change. It has been a summer of too little family time--a husband who has been absent way too much on business, an 18-year old son who is soaking up every last minute of summer fun with his friends (not family) before he heads off to football camp and college this Saturday and, a 15-year old son who has been consumed with summer school, football conditioning, camps, and now two-a-day practices.

Last week, our wonderful friend, Camille, passed away suddenly while camping with her family and friends. She was a giver, a lover of life, a very recent proud grandmother, and she exuded happiness.

Disoriented and distraught. That's how I have been feeling. I try to remind myself that I should be grateful that Ed actually has business to tend to, in light of the fact that he lost his job in January after 20 years of service. He was very fortunate to bounce back quickly, while many of his coworkers, with multiple engineering degrees, have yet to land an interview. I try to remind myself that I am blessed to have two healthy and able-bodied boys who have learned to be independent and are ready to move onto the next stage of life. And, I definitely try to remind myself that I'm blessed because my family currently has good health and we are in tact.

I realize that my little "ship of dreams" may be temporarily lost at sea, but Camille's family's ship has totally capsized. I know the coming weeks, months, and year will find them just trying to keep their heads above water.

I must say, in the last three years we have lost some special people in our lives to cancer, suicide, and now a pulmonary embolism. Hearing tragic news is never easy. In fact, it's down right surreal. You think your ears have misheard. You think the person speaking to you is talking in a foreign language because all you can say is "I'm sorry, I don't understand. What did you say?" You are in disbelief. It's just like how you see people react in the movies when they are in denial. All you can say is "no, no, no....there must be some mistake. That couldn't possibly happen to me or anyone I know."

If you think hearing bad news is difficult, delivering it is even worse. Having the responsibility of telling someone something that you know is going to crush their world is way too much power. For me it happened when I had to tell Ed over the phone (while on business in Mexico) that his father's cancer had become terminal and he had only a short time left. It happened again when I had to tell my children that their dear friend had made a terrible mistake and took his own life. For me, it's a horrible feeling to know that someone's exact moment of shock and sadness may be forever etched in their memory and I played a role in that.

Once again, it is time for me to regroup. With one week left before Alex heads off to Kalamazoo, I know that it's important for me to pick up my oars and starting rowing in a direction. With friends in distress, I need to try and be a beacon of light for them--no matter how small. Bring them a meal, help with a chore, take care of an errand. Time for me to pull out my spiritual compass and get back on course.