What a sorrowful Friday.
I woke this morning to news of the Aurora, CO shooting. So many lives lost or injured. I can't even imagine the horror of being in that situation.
Later in the morning, I sat on the floor, playing with two small children. I was enjoying sharing in their joy and simple happiness. As I sat there, I felt the phone in my pocket vibrate. I pulled it out and stared at the screen for a second. It was from someone I wasn't expecting to hear from for a while. It was with some trepidation that I opened it, but nothing could have prepared me for what I read.
I don't remember the exact wording, but the message was this: a student from my alma mater was struck and killed by a car early this morning. (story here)
Cue stomach drop. I stared blankly at my sister, who was across the room. She asked what was wrong and I told her the news.
It still hasn't sunk in. I can't believe it. They say little kids don't find death tragic because they don't understand what it means for someone to be gone forever. I find death tragic... but I can't claim to grasp what that really means either. Somehow you always expect they'll come back.
That's a great thing about being Catholic: we believe that, by the grace of God, we'll see those people again.
There's something to hope for.
Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord, and may the perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls and the souls of all the faithful departed, through the mercy of God, rest in peace.
No comments:
Post a Comment