I was going to write about our family dinner last night, because I actually cooked and there was a lot of interaction worthy of preserving and sharing.
But then one of the other managers walked into my office to tell me that the child of a coworker was killed last night. Car accident. I knew her when she was younger; she spent a few weeks for a few summers helping me out with filing and scanning and shredding documents. A bright, beautiful young woman now deceased. Despite not knowing her all that well or having seen her in a few years, I feel shattered. For my coworker, for myself, for other parents who have lost children. While the loss of a child is earth shaking, I imagine the loss of your only child is somehow worse.
It is a sad day here, and I want to call both my kids and tell them again how much I love them, how proud I am, how blessed and how fortunate I am to be their mom. I probably will. Because this loss is far too personal and far too painful for me to process alone. M is coming for lunch, something he has done twice in 10 years. But we get it, unfortunately. Whereas others around me are blessedly only imagining how he must feel, I am all too familiar with it.