Jul 21 2007
Suddenly
Yesterday morning, I heard sirens. My kids were thrilled and we ran out the back door to see where they were coming from. What little boy doesn’t love a firetruck or an ambulance?
We couldn’t find the source of the siren, so we came back inside and pretty much forgot about it, until a neighbor showed up a few hours later to say, “did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Scott died last night. In his sleep. He went to bed and never woke up.”
He was 39 years old. He leaves behind a beautiful wife from Korea (who doesn’t have any family here) and their 15 year old daughter.
No one saw this coming. They’re still trying to figure out what exactly happened. It’s currently being blamed on a switch in medication, but that’s just speculation right now.
We’re all in a bit of a state of shock right now. It makes me painfully aware of my own mortality, but more especially of my hubby’s mortality, which is more essential, more precious than my own at this point in my life.
Things are being arranged so quickly. I’ve taken meals in to the widow–which feels very strange. (”I’m sorry your husband died. Here’s a casserole.”) I’ll be setting up tables and chairs and providing food at the funeral. It’s all very surreal.
This is not my loss. I hardly knew the man. I’d seen him around and I’d seen him at church and (for those of you who speak “Mormon”) he and Hubby were Home Teaching companions, though it was a new enough assignment that they’d never actually gone together. Still, there was a connection there, slight as it was.
It’s not my loss, but it’s someone’s loss. How can she be coping? And the fact that it happened in my own backyard makes me feel strange and insecure–like when you see a spider crawling on the floor, and for the rest of the night, you’re just certain that there’s a spider on you.
This is not my loss, but I feel a little bit of it too. I’ll be holding my loved ones a little closer today.
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Very sad - and a startling reminder that you know not the day nor the hour.
My prayers are with that family - and you are doing a great job in supporting them, I’m sure they’ll very much appreciate it.
“Ask not for whom the bell tolls”? I’ve often felt selfish, turning the loss of someone else into reflections of my own life, but I think it’s an intrinsic part of who we are. We feel connected to those around us. The more empathetic of us, feel others’ hurts as our own.
I’ve never found a bridge over the awkwardness though.
That is so sad. Hard not to think of your own mortality at a time like this.
She numb right now. Numbness is one of God’s blessings. It helps you to get through all the arrangements.
I lost my youngest son at the age of 10 months on 2/2/96. Even though we knew he was dying I still was numb after he died in my arms.
The numbness lasted for a few months and then the pain overwhelms one. It’s a minute to minute get through it kind of thing.
The best thing to day is I’m sorry. And pray for them
I lost my son and my grandmother both on 2/2/96 and my mom on 2/11/97.
Try and appreciate those you love every single day.
So very sad. A definite reminder to cherif every moment.
*cherish, sorry…
I’m so sorry Brillig. It’s like there’s something in the air.
We were at my neighbours funeral yesterday and that was also a complete shock.
I just can’t get out of my head his wife alone in their bed.
My kids and hubby have all had extra cuddles this week.
Take care.
Hugs to you. Death can be so hard to grasp, sometimes, especially when it happens suddenly. It really jerks us out of that “safe” space we feel we’re in most of the time where that kind of stuff would *never* happen to us.
Wow. That’s awful. I always struggle with these situations (just last month the guy across the street from me had a heart attack). I’m sad for the loss of someone else, but thankful for the reminder it’s given me to value life. And it’s been my experiences, that a good casserole is always appreciated. Thinking of you.
Sobering reminder, for sure. I remember going to a HS classmate’s funeral and then to those of some of my close friends’ fathers. The first made me realize my own mortality, and the second was a reminder that my parents won’t always be around. These things seem to always strike close to the heart even if they aren’t directly tied to you.
I hope the widow find some peace. What a trial.
I’m fluent in Mormon and being fluent we both know *singing* families can be together forever*
It is a major bummer though.
Oh man, I can’t even imagine. My prayers are with that family right now and I am feeling very grateful for mine at the moment.
So sorry to hear of the loss of this person. It is so tragic when someone loses a loved one. We lost our great nephew this spring (he was almost 16), and it was sudden (he had mono and his throat closed up). We were not really close to him, but closer to his father, our nephew. I think in our minds we think people live until they are old, and when someone younger passes suddenly it is a shock. I am sorry for your loss also as I know how the passing of someone in you circle of acquaintances can bring forth so many emotions.
This is very sad and a little too close to home for me. We had a similar happening to one of my neighbors only it was a she and died in a car accident. It doesn’t ever seem to occur to you when you’re in your thirties and your children are young that death is right next door. But it can be, and it’s startling every time it happens.
Oh, my goodness. That’s very scary.
Thank you, everyone, for your wonderful responses. Some of you have been through so much–I can’t even comprehend how you make it. Thanks for being willing to share, and thanks for lifting me up a bit.
It’s not your loss. It’s our loss. The worlds. I am grateful to you, Brillig for doing what you can for his wife. It may not seem like a lot but you are at the very least THERE to shoulder the burden with her. We shall mourn with those who mourn and rejoice with those who rejoice. I will keep them in my prayers. Thanks for sharing.
So sad to hear about this! I think that you are doing just what you need to do by helping the widow out in her time of need. Your shared faith also provides a connection and an important source of support.
When my mom’s choir leader lost her husband, all the church members came together to cook dinner for her and her children, spend time with her during the day so she wouldn’t feel alone, etc. That you care for her well-being is probably more appreciated than you know.
Amen to that. Having suffered the sudden unexpected loss of my father I feel others losses so much more deeply now.
I know the widow appreciated the support. Sometimes its hard to know what to do as everyone grieves so differently but it’s the reaching out, the support and the love that means so much in the time of need.
A good reminder for all of us to hold our loved ones closer *every day.* I can’t even imagine…
Agreed on the numbness.
And as weird as it does feel to bring her that stuff, but it is a huge help. I remember going through everything, I didnt’ eat and would forget to feed the kids. When people would show up with food, it was like, “Oh, yeah, they have to eat.” After the first couple days, The Man was back on track enough to start feeding them regularly (that sounds so weird), but those first few days are crucial for helping.
Anyway, I’m very sorry for your neighbor’s loss … and the loss you are feeling as well. This is the kind of empathy I was talking about having to feel…because he was a part of your life.
Anyway, I’m shutting the yap hole now…But I’m thinking of you.
Although it is a few days late, please accept my condolences. Your neighbours will be in my thoughts and prayers. Any loss is hard to bare, but when it is so sudden and unexpected it is tough. I have always told those I love how much they mean to me. I would hate to think something would happen to one of them or me…and have the “I love you”s not spoken…if that makes any sense.
I’ve been especially sensitive to death after my dad’s death a year or so ago. I well up with tears just hearing about someone who has died- even if I’m not particularly close to them or their loved ones. I guess I’ve learned empathy the hard way?