This morning was a typical morning. My ADHD miracle boy woke up, came downstairs, and immediately starting making random, non-sensical noises. The dog we adopted from the Humane League six months ago appears with her full-on crazy. Barking at the sunlight on the floor, squirrels climbing trees outside, and my aforementioned miracle boy who won't stop squeaking her favorite toy. This morning was just like every morning. Same button to push on the coffee pot. Same email address and Facebook account to check. Same chocolate milk for miracle boy and repetitive "shushes" to insane, but insanely loved, rescue pup. Most days start this way. Then they continue in this life my honey and I have created for our family. We have amazing friends. We're both pursuing our dreams. And we're best friends and incredible partners. The only thing missing is what we left behind. And that is family. His is in South Florida. Mine in the South (Alabama and Mississippi-- holla!)
Today, a call from my dad yanked me from my routine. It's amazing how quickly we insulate our "now" lives from our "before" lives. Yes, I would love to see my family more. My Dad is my hero. My cousin, Amber, is my sister from another mother. Her sisters and their children are so much fun to be with. There is so much to embrace and celebrate. But the distance makes the everyday connections hard. So life tends to compartmentalize. When we're here in PA, we're surrounded by our friends here. My church buds at LCBC. The life we've made. Then, something happens and I'm shoved into a time machine and catapulted back dozens of years. Although this can be painful at times, I'm not complaining. Reconnection is wonderful. It reminds me of who I was, where I've been, and what I've endured.
But I wish with all my heart that today's time travel never happened. More importantly, that it's facilitation never happened. Yesterday, my cousin, who is a year older than me, and his beautiful, 18-year-old daughter were killed in their home. All day, my heart has been sick as images flip through my mind like a slideshow. Eddie and Allison have been through so much. This sweet 18-year-old girl had a mother with MS. A little brother who was run over in his own driveway. A grandfather who raised her who died too young from Melanoma. And her sweet life, and that of her daddy, is cut short.
It makes no sense. It makes me question God. How can so much tragedy fall on one family? My Daddy is faithful and clings to his beliefs. Despite having one child in a coma for weeks from a car accident. Another lost at the age of 30. A grandchild who died. A wife who is in the end stages of dementia. A brother lost to cancer. A mother lost to stroke. I can't comprehend that kind of pain.
So no reference to writing tonight. Just homage on this Father's Day weekend to my amazing father who keeps taking punches. Mike Tyson got nothin' on him! And in honor of my cousin, Eddie Kelley, and his beautiful 18-year-old daughter, Allison, who became angels too soon.