THIS MORNING

I just finished writing the short of their life story, telling how he got in trouble in his youth, and how his wife has always been there for him and his boys.  I just wrote about how her sons know that she loves them because she puts up with their crap and loves them fiercely anyway.  I just wrote it and was planning to send it all in so they could finish the legalization of what they have done since day one - caring for just one more grandchild and keeping their family together as only they know how to do.

And then...

The co-worker with the long blond hair and the sweet disposition came into my cube, holding her cell phone - looking down at it and not at me.  My first thought when she said their names was to sigh.  I didn't have what I needed to send it all in - the story and the forms and the legal paperwork.  She interrupted me.  At 8 this morning, she interrupted me.

Why do our hands flutter up to cover our mouths when we get bad news?  Why do the tears spring so suddenly to the eyes and the cheeks get hot?  Why does the breath suck back into our lungs with such force, keeping us from screaming?

I met this family a few years ago when I started working here, working with families that were in disrepair and needed the truth to set them free.  Their family was one.  They were caring grandparents then too, and I fell in love with how they loved their sons but didn't, not one time, accept their bad choices.  I loved how they hugged their grandchildren close and held them until they could go home again.  And three years later, when they had to do it all over again, I jumped at the chance to work alongside them again.

And then...

This morning, my co-worker stood in my cube and told me the unthinkable.

A woman that has loved her man for 40 years had to watch him leave her for heaven this morning.

Why THIS morning?  Why now, when they were doing it all again?  Why, when they were better together than apart?

I tried not to cry the messy tears I am known to cry.  I tried to keep them all in, but I ran.  I ran for a safe place to cry astonished tears as I thought of her - the wife and mother left holding onto the pieces.  And I cried, thinking of him...gone.  He would have never left if he had a choice.  But he had no choice this morning and no one knows why.

I am a strong woman, yes.  I love my job because I love the people - like this beautiful couple.  But I have no answers, and while I know I need to show up at the door of their home at 5:00 this evening to hug her, I don't have answers.  And I so desperately want to have answers.

Wait...

No...

I don't want to have answers.

I want to have him back in that house with her (the woman he has loved for forty-plus years).  I want my godfather back from heaven so my godmother isn't without him anymore.  I want my friend's daughter back from the arms of Jesus so she can be the princess in her family again - wearing her crown.

I don't want death surprising families anymore.  I don't want the grief and pain that it causes.  I don't want to answer why this has to happen now, as it does everyday somewhere.

This morning, I came in with no idea that this woman said goodbye to her husband while I laid next to mine in bed well before a new day could be embraced.  I had no idea the rock of that family would leave so suddenly.  And as I type this, I am speechless.  I am rendered silent with a prayer burning in my heart.