These days, I rarely wax personal on this blog. There was a time when blogging was journaling out loud to me, but not so much now… and I definitely should know better than to cast raw, unedited words into cyberspace at one in the morning. But you know what? Forget the dang blogging rules. Sometimes, all you can do is bleed things out in digital ink and hope somebody gets something out of it.

This week is, simultaneously, amazing and terrible, with glimpses of startling beauty and the deepest curse, and it only took a few days to get there.
There was celebrating my friend Carrie and the new life inside her, the happiness of her upcoming new role as a mom. There was breakfast and chocolate and gifts and so much laughter and music. There was the radiance of two first time parents, wide eyed and shining with gratitude.
There was the news that Becca, one of my favorite Rabbit Roomers and a writer friend, is on a beach vacation with her family within reasonable driving distance, and the plans we’re making for a little mid-week adventure. There will be pancakes and, no doubt, plenty of laughter and nerd-talk that only people who would show up for a thing called Hutchmoot will get.
There was saying goodbye to my aunt, after her struggle with cancer. This has never really touched our family before, not directly, but what a rollercoaster it is… the ins and outs of treatment, the hospital stays, the sad news she was terminal, the hope that just maybe she would be healed and could enjoy her new home and just a little more time near her family. Just maybe, God would choose that. Stranger things have happened. Why not now? 
There was the hurt of knowing that, once again, death comes far, far too fast. We can never be prepared. It always feels like such an injustice.
A baby shower. A breakfast with friends. A funeral. How can it be that love and death, faith and doubt, beauty and ache are all so intertwined? Grief tempers our joy; hope bears us up like a gentle wave in a violent sea. I can’t get my head around any of this.
This doesn’t have an answer, because it shouldn’t. I’ve heard plenty of answers. I want to live with the questions for a little while.
This doesn’t have a point either, other than maybe hold the ones you love a little tighter, and don’t turn down the next adventure that comes your way. That’s what I’m counting on when Wednesday rolls around. The briefest glimpse of heaven on earth.
The day death shall be no more.
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