Sunday, September 8, 2013
Four Deaths in 1978
I looked at pictures, I searched my brain, I scrolled through Faceblook and still feel no idea. I have nothing pressing to write about. I did find Anne Morrow Lindbergh writing about breakfast and sunshine that I was going to copy. Pastor mentioned the question of tragedy today, how he wondered since a young man why certain things happen. One of the hardest details of being a pastor.
I thought of the beginning of my senior year about four deaths that happened near each other with their parallels.
Two Rainbow girls' young brothers dying and two twenty eight year old's slipping out of this world. Four deaths in 1978 that I noted in my journal with similarities beside the ages. The one brother and the one twenty eight year old had suffered a long time with disabilities. The other brother and the other twenty eight year old were killed in accidents. Even with their ages, the two succumbing to illness eased burdens on families, yet still created holes.
The sudden deaths crushed. Twenty eight year old man killed in train accident left a crying widow with two small boys. He was my brother's friend and even lived in our house before he married. I think this one bothered me the most as a seventeen year old.
I didn't know the little boy snuffed out on a bicycle and barely knew his Rainbow sister. It still upset me. The other little boy I did know the family and was sad for them.
When the casket was closed on the twenty eight year old woman, the crumbling cry of her mother haunts me. Debbie was my dad's cousin's daughter. She had juvenile diabetes leading to a coma right after she graduated from high school. As she came out of the coma, she never advanced past a four year old's mentality. Her mother became caregiver again. She dedicated her life to her daughter for ten years.
Thirty five years later and many other deaths later, I still have no idea what to say. We don't know. Like Job's friends at first, we are best to not utter any words, but sit and mourn. Extremely slowly, the pain eases. I'd propose it never goes away, until we are reunited. I do know the Lord grieves when His loved ones die. He also collects all those tears in a bottle. He cares and quietly comforts.
Posted by Mollie Lyon at 3:20 PM