It Must Be Raining On The Lake.

So,  if it’s raining here … It must be raining there.  On the lake.  Because there isn’t that far from here.

Such is my circular reasoning when I’m up ungodly early with not too much to do except fill the silence with the steady tap of my fingers on the computer keyboard.

Trying to match my thoughts with the words coming out on the screen.  Sometimes,  this whole process works.  The writing is effortless.  Everything connects.

Other times (like now),  it’s harder to get from Point A to Point B easily.   This is where you have to hunker down and Keep At It.  Because if you stop,  you are literally Dead In The Water.

With nothing of value to say.

Lately,  I’ve been struggling with what to say to friends of mine who have lost loved ones.  Husbands who left their houses to drive across town and never made it back home again.

Because the cars they were driving crashed into guard rails.  Flipped over on highways.  So that the force of the crash sent bodies flying through wind shields at unimaginable speeds.

And, the damage to their bodies was so severe that they didn’t survive.

Death was not instantaneous.  It came the following week.  Much. Too. Soon.

Uncles.  Men old enough to have lived full and satisfying lives.  But the torn hearts of their families bleed just as much as the hearts of my friends who are newly widowed.

Someone’s child.  A child  I didn’t know, but whose death – a suicide – rocked a community off of its complacent perch.  Said, “Pay attention.  It was too hard. For me.”

I may not be right about it being too hard.  Because I really don’t know.  But, when a fourteen year old takes her own life, what else could it be?

And, what else is there to say once you’ve said that?  [gplus count=”true” size=”Medium” ]





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