I don’t understand

Tuesday happened.

Like it’s been doing each week for a long time.

And I woke up and I looked at Facebook and I saw a post about a former student.

A fellow I knew when he was in my high school English class.  Maybe fifteen years ago. On the right track. A good kid. Honest. Reliable. Responsible. Likable and kind.

He grew up.  He got married.  He had three children.

And this week, on a drive home from another state, he was in a car accident.

He didn’t survive.  And neither did his two daughters.

His wife and their son are fighting for their lives.

And I do not understand.

My friend texted me. Also told me the same news. She was also one of my former students. Framily now. His classmate. A wife. A mother of two.

And we both just said – we do not understand.

I had an all day meeting.

Tuesday.

I had help from my friend and my daughter to drop off and pick up kids at All The Places.

Another message. A friend from one of my first post-college jobs. Her house caught on fire. They’re in a hotel. Safe. But a lot of destruction.

I was doing regular things all day. Meetings. Watching a movie with the kids. Making plans. Writing stories.

I do not understand the mystery between regular days and tragic days.

Between a day where I think about getting a haircut and a day where a dad loses his life. A day when a phone call changes every single thing for one family. A day where trivial concerns slam into tragedies.

I’m so sad.  For mysteries I will never understand. For stories that do not make sense to me here and now.  

And, tonight, for a family suffering deep and unthinkable loss.

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