Love and Loss

Last night I spent the night at Paige's house. This morning, Elizabeth got a message from her sister saying that someone had been run over by the train. It isn't uncommon around here for people to be hit by that train. In fact, the Chapel Hill Ghost Light, a popular urban legend here, is about a man who had his head sliced off by the train and now spends every night looking for it with his lantern. When I was about seven or eight, we lived in a house very close to the tracks. One day when we went out walking, we saw police cars and an ambulance, the train was stopped next to the place where cars could drive over the tracks. On the tracks, there was a dark black tarp. Now I'm sure that it was a body bag, but then I don't think I really understood. The man that died that day was walking on the tracks when he was hit. He'd been listening to his Walkman. 

Sometime early this morning, a car was crossing over the tracks. They didn't see the train coming and it smashed into them, throwing the car completely off the tracks. When the police got there, they had to cut the bodies out of the car. The bodies belonged to a grandmother and her eight year old grandson. The grandmother and youngest brother of a boy that is in my grade. 

I know that my last post was a sad one, and usually I try to have equal amounts of happy and sad posts, but sometimes life gets in the way of that. 

I talked about how empathetic I am in the last post and a good example of that happened today.
Because when I told Elizabeth how it happened and she said she was going to cry, I said I wasn't but that I was all very depressing. When she said that, I didn't feel like crying. 

I felt like throwing up. 

What must that have been like? Was the boy in my grade, we'll call him Jerry, awake when they crossed the tracks? Or was he still asleep like we were when Elizabeth got the message. 

It's so close to Christmas time. I can't even imagine how he must feel, knowing that there were so many things that could have been done differently to stop that awful thing from happening. 

His dad died just a few years ago. 

What were the last words he said to either of them? 

God, I can't imagine any of this without feeling sick. 

If my brother died, I would be so lost. If anyone in my family died, I would have such a hard time dealing with their loss. 

Because even though we fight all the time, I would feel so alone without them. 

My mom brought up a good point the other day.

We have been so incredibly lucky to not have lost anyone in our close family yet. 

I've got all of my grandparents. My aunts and uncles. My mom and dad. My brother. 

Thousands die every day, and not a single one of them has been a member of my family yet. 

That makes me feel like a weight is hanging over my head. Ready to drop at any moment, and crush some of the happiness that I've been so blessed to have. 

If my parents died, or my brother died, I don't think I would talk to anyone for a very long time. 

Not really talk anyway. I would be silent. 

I think it would be even longer until I laughed again. 

For someone to die so young, without ever truly living their life... It's just so impossible to comprehend for me. 

It just seems so wrong. 

It seems wrong for some people to have so much, and for others to lose everything. 

I know I'll never understand why things are the way they are, but I really think something is going to have to change in my life. 

Everyday, I am going to write something about my life. Maybe not on this blog, maybe just for my eyes to see. But I'm going to write one thing every day that I cherish in life. 

Moments like that happen every so often. Once, I spent a day down at the river by myself. Just lying on the dock and watching the river flow. 

That put things, if only for a few moments, into perspective for me. 

That river has been flowing for hundreds of years and when I'm dead and gone, it will probably still be flowing. 

I don't mater to that river. I'm as insignificant as the little minnows that swim along the banks where the water is shallow. It was just like today, when I heard about how it happened, we were shopping. I started thinking more and more about it. And I looked around. Everyone was going about with their lives. Totally oblivious to the fact that an eight year old boy and his grandmother will never get to see another Christmas. He'll never have another birthday. He'll never get to grow up. 

In the big picture, our lives are so seemingly insignificant. But to each other, we mean so much. 

No one knows the reason we're here, if they did I'm sure they'd speak up. But for whatever reason it is that we live such short lives, I hope I can make the most of it. 

Peace, love, and life, 

                                   Sara