So this post doesn't fit the "theme" of this blog at all ...
It's not about Malcolm or Pearl.
Or something funny (or sweet) the husband did.
It's not about our house being back on the market (that will come later).
Or about anything remotely "mommy" related.
Yet, my mind and heart have been compelling me to write it since this weekend ... To get these thoughts on (virtual) paper.
Sometime on Friday night, a neighbor and friend that I grew up with, a boy who was like my "little brother," took his own life.
He was only 26-years-old.
Truth be told, although we haven't spoken in about two years, I am still having a really hard time wrapping my mind around it, and find myself preoccupied with thoughts of him (and his family that were left behind).
This loss has blindsided me in a way that others before it have not ... That's not to say the deaths of my Grampie or uncle were not difficult, but, in many ways, they were expected. My Grampie was old. My uncle had cancer.
This boy, however, wasn't old.
He wasn't sick.
He was young.
And I just don't understand how someone so young, so full of life and other possibilities, could really be gone.
Growing up, this was the kid that lived to make us laugh.
The kid that idolized Jim Carrey and perfected his impressions of him (using us as his audience).
The kid that forced us to call him by a different name for an entire summer, and liked having various shapes shaved into his buzz-cut hair.
The kid that was always smiling.
The kid that was small in size, but so huge in personality and charm.
The kid I "babysat" on occasion, spending evenings playing games on the computer or making milkshakes and other junky snack foods.
The kid I tutored in math for weeks on end, only to have him fail the exam anyway ... And somehow convince his mother that the tutoring had really helped.
The kid that, truly, seemed to be so outwardly happy.
I obviously don't know why he chose the path he did.
I can't (and don't want to) speculate. It's none of my business, anyway.
Instead, I sit here in disbelief, and wonder how I will make it through the wake and funeral without completely losing it.
How I will be able to accept the crazy reality of the situation ... While my mind and heart are fighting against me, trying to convince me that nothing has changed and this is all just some weird dream or misunderstanding.
I just can't believe that he's gone.
(And I know I'll sound like a baby saying this, but) it isn't fair.
It just isn't fair.