Life is what happens when you plan to keep blogging. My initial interest in keeping a blog was to write about keeping balance between work, family and writing. While I hope I've been good at keeping my family as the major priority, work has been unrewarding lately and I haven't been able to concentrate to write much (more on that some other time).
My son is now six and my daughter is three. To say I'm enjoying them would be an understatement. I'm an unapologetic enthusiast, the president of their fan club. I've been involved in scouting with my son, even volunteered to lead his den and just spent more time than intended building his pinewood car for the pack's annual derby. My daughter treats each moment like she's Auntie Mame, living to the fullest extent she can muster, always smiling, talking, laughing. We're having a great time.
My wife has a friend, someone who'd been in the same field as she, who also has two kids roughly the same age as ours. I've never met this friend, never met the kids or their father, either. It will sound odd to you, but today I am thankful I have not met them. I don't know what they look like when they smile or laugh. I don't know how tall they are, how they line up walking together as a family. I don't know where they go to dinner all together on those nights when they're all out together and it's suddenly too late to go home and cook. I don't know how their voices sound, whether they find themselves joining in when one of them hums a song.
I'm glad I don't know them because right now they are experiencing a pain I never want to know. They've lost their six-year-old son, lost him after four years of incredible bravery and heart as he fought against an equally incredible and aggressive cancer.
Six-year-old boys aren't supposed to fight cancer. They aren't supposed to inspire strangers with their fortitude. They are supposed to play dodgeball and video games, build a race car with their father. Little sisters aren't supposed to wake up one day without their big brother, go solo in their childhood where once there was a partner. Parents aren't supposed to plan memorials for their child, they're supposed to plan where their child will spend their school day.
This does not make sense and it will go on not making sense.