Intern Chick

These words are coming from a raw place, a fresh wound that is still dealing with the shock of it all.  This is what I'm dealing with right now, and I apologize in advance for the morbid nature of this post...but this week, I learned you could be here on Earth one day, and gone the next.

What do you do with that?  I've been asking myself that question for 4 days now, and I wish I had the answer to that one.  

I learned to really value life, your own and those around you.  To take great joy in the little moments: the watching mindless television moments, the ritual goodnight moments, the kind of moments filled with hugs, jokes, silence, and love.  Life is so precious.  You never know when someone is going to get taken from you and in a blur of tears, fears, and disbelief, you're standing over their casket, not exactly sure what you should be praying for, but fiercely praying all the same.

There are no condolences when you lose someone who should have had a good 30 or so years left, someone who wasn't sick, wasn't in any pain.  You can't tell yourself at least they had a long, full life...because it just wasn't that long.  You can't console yourself by saying "at least they're not in pain anymore" because they weren't in pain, they didn't die in sickness.  All I can give myself is a slideshow of summer weekends, birthdays and Christmases with laughter and storytelling providing the soundtrack.  

And fittingly, Lyfe said it best, "Sometimes, memories just ain't enough..."