crumble


My mother calls me with bad news so often that my husband shivers every time her number shows up on the caller ID. He makes jokes about it and even I have been guilty of laughing about it. Her phone call yesterday was more of the same but i couldnt laugh it off. Even 24 hours later i feel the weight of her words.

Her call was to inform me that my little brother's best friend was killed in a car accident. The hurt I feel today, however, isnt from the loss of the boy's life, precious as i'm sure it was.

The pain i feel today is for my poor brother because i know exactly how he must feel having gone through it myself. And it makes me angry all over again. I was forced to rationalize my best friend's death as a part of life. People die. Some people die old. Some die young. But there's something so deeply painful about a young person's death that it never goes away.
I know too many young people who have died in that godforsaken place, so many that i almost thought it was normal. Its not normal. People arent supposed to die suddenly and tragically. that is supposed to be the exception not the norm.

I hope my brother has the strength to get through this and get out of there.

there's something terribly wrong with that place.