Case in point: my dad died when I was 4 years old. It's amazing how something that happened so long ago can really create such a ripple effect for a long, long time. It was a crisp, beautiful Saturday morning in October, 1974 and my dad, a pilot by hobby, flew his plane to view the foliage. The wing malfunctioned and the plane crashed, and poof....my normal family was gone. My brother was two -- still a baby really. My mom answered the knock at the door, the knock of a policeman, coming to tell her that her life would never be the same again.
Fast forward 24 years later. I'd married my wonderful husband Sean. I'd had two of my three beautiful children. I lived in a beautiful home. I'd coped with my father's death all the while....therapy and crying for a year when Sean proposed to me. How can you love another human being so much and know that it can be taken away so quickly? How can you extend such vulnerabity? It's called living. So with the help of the therapist and a lot of kleenex, I moved forward.
But, then Sean's parents...both...together....flew from PA to VT to ski for the weekend but crashed into a mountain instead. Another plane crash. Another dream destroyed. Another family's anguish. Reliving the same nightmare, but now I was old enough to remember it...experience it....Basically, you can't make this shit up. What are the odds? Why did this happen to both me and Sean? Was there a "grand scheme" reason we were together? To help each other suffer through this knowing finally how the other felt. I don't know.
I love the theme of "you can't make this shit up" because crazy stuff happens all the time. This is the most depressing version I'll ever post. It's the largest example...blogging only gets better from here.
