I haven’t much felt like blogging lately.
Last Monday, married friends of my husband and mine were brutally attacked in their home in North Carolina. He survived; she died early Wednesday morning. The past week has been a confusing and profoundly saddening blur, first of painful waiting, then of rushed travel preparations, airports, the visitation, and the funeral. In some regards, though, it’s also been a week of hope, new resolutions, and restored commitments.
I refuse to get into the who and the how of the crime, because focusing on such details gives too much power and publicity to the person, someone they (and we) knew and trusted, who did this. Instead, I choose to concentrate on celebrating the victim’s incredibly full life and working toward moving forward in a productive manner, taking my grief and anger and using them to make positive changes.
But first, and before writing about it more extensively, I need some time to process what’s happened. Unexpected deaths are jolting; violent deaths come with additional layers of emotion. This is, for me, unfamiliar territory, and not one that I thought that I would ever explore. For now, I will hug a little tighter, say I love you more often, and make a greater effort to keep things in perspective.
Jamie, the world is worse off without you. Nation, know that you are loved and supported.