A week ago a little boy on Garry's soccer team and one of Macey's playmates had an accident and died a few days later. It has hit both Garry and Macey very hard, and we are trying to learn from it, be a little more patient with our kids, show a little more love, take a few more pictures.
Garry and Macey went to the funeral yesterday. I thought it would be good for Macey to go as she does not seem to understand 'death' and I think that a part of her still expects to see Harry at practice this week. She talked with me about it throughout the day. She thought it was great that they put a soccer ball in his casket so that he can play soccer in heaven. She wanted to know how he got dressed, why he was wearing white, who did his hair, and she was sad that his sister cried at the funeral.
I do not know the Mom very well. I always got Harry mixed up with another boy on the team, Charlie, and when he would do something spectacular on the soccer field, I would cheer "Good job, Charlie!" just to have Garry yell at me from the field, "That was Harry!"
I do worry about his Mom now that the funeral is over and family will start to go home. Things will go back to "normal" and really, could there be anything worse? Harry was the youngest and they would run errands together and have lunch dates together before afternoon Kindergarten and Garry heard that every Friday was "Costco Friday" when they would go out together. He is worried about how hard it will be when she leaves for Costco on Friday, and she leaves alone. It is heartbreaking to consider.
There are a lot of things to fear before the Second Coming. It's just not going to be a good time. Governments will fail, markets will fail, political alliances will fail. I think that it will be a frightening time. But as more friends and family cross over, I think that you must begin to think, "Please, let it come. And let it come quickly" because you long for that reunion.
I like to think that after the Second Coming and with the First Resurrection I will see Harry kicking his soccer ball again. And I hope I do not call him Charlie.