The death of a good man

I spent the evening tonight over at the house of a family who's daughter is one of my daughter's close friends. This family, with two girls ages 14 and 12, lost their father yesterday in a bizarre - yet naturally caused death: a massive heart attack while riding his bike.

He was a great dad with a sense of humor that I truly appreciated. He was married to a woman with one of the largest hearts I know - and both of their daughters are poised and intelligent young women. He was sharp, had seen his measure of success and cared about his community.
You could tell that his family meant more to him than anything else - even sailing.

And so their house today was filled with people and kids coming to be with their two friends. With the phone ringing off the hook and the buzz of teen laughter in the other room, the adults stood around in shock knowing that there was nothing anyone could do other than help keep kids hydrated. Food was being delivered almost as fast as the flowers, the door opening continually to a new face and a new child. This full house was welcome to the new widow - her sense of helping her community come together to make sense of her husband's death almost as important to her as her own swamped feelings.

People say that those shocked by such sudden death shouldn't be left alone - but I wondered at how the daughters and mother were pulled by their own tribes away from each other. Perhaps this was best for today as the mom had her hands full of autopsies, funeral homes, viewing her dead husband, phoning family, friends and fielding the calls from other family and friends and doctors. She had help with all of this and yet I hope that later tonight or tomorrow she'll have time to pull those girls in close and breathe just a little bit.

Something like this happens and it is natural to think of my own life, my own husband and my deep sense of gratitude. And yet, why did this have to happen to such a good man - to such a sweet family? The stunning reality of loss is incomprehensible. My gratitude for what I have in this moment was echoed by my friend, the new widow as she spoke to those of us standing in her kitchen. "Kiss them goodnight every night and tell your loved ones that you love them."

Upon arriving home, I did exactly that.