Sunday afternoon. Kelly and the kids go back to church Sunday night, I don't because, for those who don't know, I am Catholic and going to church twice in one day is just too much for my non-Baptist mind to handle, so I have the house to myself.
Kelly found out yesterday that her cousin passed away, very unexpectedly. He was 43. He died of a seizure apparently. Kelly and he grew up together. At Christmas and Thanksgiving they would always get together with extended family. I have been regaled with many a story about their escapades. It is a very close-knit family.
I did not know him as well as Kelly, obviously, so I have the luxury of looking at this from a different perspective. It is one of those take-stock-in-your-life moments. Which is different from a life-changing moment.
Why is it human nature that it takes something like this to make us realize what we have? Could be because if you think about how fleeting life actually is you may drive yourself crazy. Content with going to work, coming home, hugging the kids and kissing the wife; that's the day to day routine.
In a perfect world, the fact that the sun rises everyday should be enough to remind us what we have. But this world isn't perfect. And neither are we.
I guess we do the daily routine to show what is important to us. I know I go to work and make money to put food on the table, clothes on their back and a roof over their head. And the most important thing, their nice warm beds-with blankets-into which I tuck them. In my own way, I make it known to them what they mean to me. And I know they see and feel it when Madison tells me she loves me; when Ian gives me a hug and says "I love you Daddy"; when Chompy smiles when I come home and reaches out her hands to me so I will pick her up and hold her. I know the subsequent blows to my face are just love pats. Sweet girl.
And I know Kelly knows when she came home last night after hearing the news. She was crying in the kitchen and as I gave her a hug she said he was only 43 and died of a heart attack, that's what we thought then, and she was worried about me. I told her that yes there were things I needed to do but my heart is "extremely strong", the cardiologists words not mine, and if anything I would meet my demise through a road rage incident not a heart attack...I thought it was funny.
In Good Will Hunting, the Robin Williams character says his wife was like an angel that God put on earth just for him. I fell sorry for the guy.
He only has one angel while I have four.
2 comments:
PLEASE continue to lift those precious young girls up in prayer. I cannot even begin to imagine living a life without my dad.
I will take this opportunity to step ever so slightly into the door you have opened with this post. And...if you hate what I have to say you can just hit delete comment.
When Tim Russert died I went into a couple of days of what Mike would call depression. Truly just worried sick about, yes, you. I know, you're thinking, not from this sister-in-law...but yes, it's true! Regardless of what a gazillion cardiologists claim or find fact in, John, your heart has experienced and is under stress. That stress, regardless of your heart strength, does take a toll over time. You're a biology guru and I know you know all of this as fact...but I wanted you to know that there ARE more "angels" out here (and yes, I realize that referring to myself as an ANGEL is a stretch) that love and worry about you and your health.
I can not imagine being Julie. And thinking about those precious girls without their daddy sickens me. Know that we are praying for you all...and the entire extended Moore family.
I do love you, John, much more than I think you know! (p.s. mike IS a boob.)
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