It started when friends found they needed to move to Pennsylvania. It's about 656 miles away, and we couldn't believe we'd have to find a way to manage the distance.
Next, another friend died of suicide, leaving us heartbroken and tear filled.
Then, our father/father in law/grandfather breathed his last. Peacefully, he smiled good-bye and in his eyes promised time on the other side. We were heartbroken in a new way.
Then we found ourselves moved to share our home with another family. A family in transition to the mission field of Africa. We knew the deal - they would stay with us for a while, then move on. We didn't realize the love that would grow between us. And when we said goodbye there weren't words to carry it all.
And next came another move. Our friends were able to take up a new part of their lives. 4058 or so miles away in the middle of the ocean - also known as Hawai'i. We helped them pack their boxes, gave sweaty hugs, and left them to catch a flight.
So many tears in the course of less than two years. The world is too big, I thought. The world is so hard.
Grief is a funny thing. Some days you're overwhelmed. More often, it's like a constant thread of energy draining out of you. I miss the ones we lost. I yearn for the ones far away. All the time they're in my heart, waiting.
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