Wednesday, September 5, 2012

Don't You Know?

As some of you may know, my nephew had a fatal climbing accident last week when he was hiking in Provo.  For the past few days we have been busy making arrangements and food and getting ready.  People came into town.  Decisions had to be made.  It's all over now, and without preparing for the next event, there is just sadness and deep despair for my sister.

His parents hosted a beautiful memorial for his friends on Monday night.  So many friends showed up!  I do not have nearly the amount of friends that he did!  He was so loved!  Some of those friends also came to his funeral and to the gravesite.  That can be a really scary thing for a 18 year old, and I was amazed by the strength and dedication of his friends.  

I was also so impressed with the strength and dedication of his family.  They loved him.  They just always loved him.  Even when he was a teenager and driving his sisters crazy, they loved him.  Even when it was not the cool thing to do, they just loved him. 

It's odd to experience a personal loss.  I find myself wanting to talk to people at Target and tell them what happened.  Don't you know?  How can you buy Tide?  Don't you know?  It seems odd that life is going on for everyone when things are now horribly wrong.

It's truly not fair.  There should be a set pattern as to how these things go: grandparents, parents, aunts, uncles. It would be better if death followed a set pattern.  My nephew should have come to my funeral with his kids and mourned my passing for a few nano-seconds before he dived into a large piece of chocolate cake.

A few months ago my sister told me that her son's "long-term" plan involved staying with her, growing old with her, and taking care of her in her old age.  It was his job, as the youngest.  At the time, we shook our heads and hoped that he came up with a better plan.  Maybe one that involved a 8-5 job, a pretty wife, and a few kids.  But it looks as though the Lord agreed with my nephew's plan.  My sister now has her own personal angel, and I know that she will find big blessings in her life -- all customized by the son whose strong love for her will never die.

8 comments:

Hygge Man said...

I know exactly what you mean when you say, "Don't you know?" It's a weird experience. Beautifully put.

Heidi said...

I'm so sorry. We lost my oldest cousin when I was 18. I know how hard it is - you never really get over it.

Tara @ Tales of a Trophy Wife said...

I was reading something lately about how isolating grieving is and I think you explained why so perfectly. It is hard when the rest of the world just goes on when yours gets shattered.Sometimes I think we should go back to wearing all black to mourn the passing of someone we loved. If for no other reason to tell people-don't you know that the world lost a truly wonderful person and my heart is breaking.

Tina said...

So sorry . . .

And thanks for sharing this.

My niece who lost her husband in Afghanistan a short year ago is in this process of wanting everyone to know . . . telling everyone . . . bumper stickers on her car . . . bracelets around her wrists . . . I suppose she is needing our and everyone's sympathy.

Thanks for helping me to understand in a small way, something that is so hard to understand.

Sarah said...

I'm so sorry Alicia. Was just catching up with your adorable family! Love your blog, so so sorry about your loss!

cemarcano said...

So sorry Alicia and to your family as well.

Jessica said...

This makes me so sad. I'm sorry for your sister and your family.

Kiersten said...

So sorry to hear this. I can't even imagine how hard it would be.