I wanted to write about my Dad today. I wanted to express how glad I am that he is my Dad. Of all the people in the world I could have ended up with; how truly blessed I was to find my way to him.
I wanted to talk about how proud I am to be his daughter. How his presence has enriched my life. How everything I do, I do with the knowledge that he will support me.
And, another day, I will. But, not today.
Yesterday, a very good friend of my daughter’s drowned. Her "boyfriend” since kindergarten, he played in my yard more times than I can count and his frequent phone calls were the highlight of my daughter’s day. Hugh coached him in wrestling and I enjoyed an easy camaraderie with his mother. I had the privilege of watching him grow from a toothless five-year old into a genuinely nice young man.
And now, I have to tell my daughter that he is dead.
Why? Why? Why?
I don’t understand. Why? Why take an eleven year old son from his mother? Why a fifteen month old baby from his parents? Or, for that matter; a thirty-eight year old man from his new wife? Why?
I am just so…angry.
I don’t want to be angry. I want to believe that everything happens for a reason. I want to believe that God is merciful. In this moment, I just….can’t. I can’t reconcile a God who would bless my life with the family that I have with a God who would allow such pain for another family that I care about. I just can’t. Not today.
And I’m so very angry at myself for not being able to.