We Are Mortal, Aren't We?

On Tuesday one friend's spouse committed suicide and on Saturday a dear couple found their adult son cold and stiff on the basement's concrete floor. I have been with both sets of families listening to stories about their loved ones and holding them as they grieve. Families and friends are gathering to share their favorite memories of Russ and Matt. Services are on this Sunday for Russ and Tuesday morning for Matt. Over the days and nights we look at photos, tell stories, but underlying it all is an unrelenting ache for Russ and Matt. They should be here to hold and to love. In each home articles of clothing, still computers, and pet dogs sniffing around the home for Russ or for Matt elicit thoughts of them. Sights, sounds, and smells conjure up different times shared, but tainted with the fear of losing them, too. Denial, anger, bargaining, and overriding sorrow tumble inside each of us, sometimes taking turns, sometimes one dominating the moment. Nights are restless, days filled with things to be decided, arranged, and paid for.