Thirteen

You know, in just thirteen months, I lost my father to murder, my grandma to lymphoma, and my uncle to complications with his diabetes. In that same thirteen months, I stood by one of my best friends as she cried at her little brother’s funeral: he died in a car accident. I’ve also stood by my grandpa, one of the strongest men I know. After losing his son and his wife, my grandpa also lost his brother, all in the same thirteen months I’ve been talking about. These deaths happened between December of 2008 and January of 2010.

My question has always been, “Why? Why my family? Why me?” Maybe I’m being selfish – I don’t exactly know. All I know is that I’m not strong enough to loose all these people, especially my dad. I was a daddy’s girl – I always have been, always will be.

I can go to church every Sunday, but that doesn’t make me the Christian I used to be. Due to these thirteen months, my faith has changed a lot. I question almost everything that comes my way regarding my faith and my beliefs.

Maybe there’s something I should learn from this – what immediately pops into my head is this: I should learn that life is a gift, not a right. But that seems too easy. It seems like it’s the obvious answer to all this.

Maybe it’s that I have learned who my real friends are. But again, that seems too easy. I guess I sit, wait, and find out… It’s all I can really do…