Tonight I went to join my girlfriends for a Mom's Nite Out. It's always a lot of fun; we stuff ourselves with fried ice cream at the local Cantina and laugh until our faces hurt. It began with the normal formalities then quickly took a turn. Tonight was different. Tonight was somber. Tonight left me with a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. And an ache in my heart. We found out that an acquaintance of ours died this weekend at her own hands. Although she was just an occasional friendly face to us, she was the mom of our children's friends.
The irony of suicides are the ripple effects; the person leaving thinks no one cares and yet it shakes the foundation of even those people who barely knew them. And there we sat with our ice creams, feeling numb and cold, trying to sort it all out. We didn't. Even after talking. The drive home. Nursing the baby. I sit. Perplexed.
I'm not quite sure what to think or feel. I just feel like I'm in a dream. A really bad dream. I can't get her kids out of my mind. Where are they? How are they handling this? Did they suspect? Did they find her?.
I'm replaying every interaction I ever had with her. What did she mean when she said that? Should I have responded differently? Did I do enough to share my faith? Did I reach out?
I'm sitting here wondering how I am going to tell my kids. Are they going to ask tough questions? Are they going to cry? Are they going to let it roll of their back at first and then mull it over in private like their mom?
My mind is reeling from the battle that must have ensued in her thoughts moments before it happened. I'm sad. I'm disgusted. I'm questioning. I'm angry. I'm heavyhearted. I'm trying to understand. I'm trying not to judge. I'm aching. I'm pensive.
Tonight, I'm pondering life and hope, and how you can't have one without the other.