My friend Kelly died today. Gone. Just like that.
Kelly was 36 years old, a wife, a mom, a great friend.
And she's gone.
I cannot seem to wrap my brain around this. In any way, shape or form. But we are making plans, taking time off, packing, and prepping the car - to drive to a funeral 14 hours away for my friend who should not be dead.
Kelly leaves behind a husband, Aaron, and two wonderful children - Lilly 6 and Corbyn 4. And a mom, Marian, who has already lost her husband and now her only child is gone too.
The only brightness I can find in this horrible dark hole is the fact that Kelly is now with her sweet Nicholas, her little boy who died just a month before he was to be born.
Please keep Aaron, Lilly, Corbyn, Marian and all of us who love Kelly in your prayers.
Many thanks to Dylan Thomas for appropriating words to the feelings of my heart...
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
