Making it home.

Last week I came downstairs to find Rob on the computer, with tears on his cheeks, he said, "My buddy John died this morning." Its kind of one of those surreal moments, and of course, this is only my perception of a death that is far more real and life altering for someone else. But it has certainly made me think. So please forgive the self indulgence of this little ramble.

Rob and John worked together a few years ago. They also did a side job together at one point. I can see so many similarities between our lives. They have two young children (maybe a bit younger than ours). He was only 26 years old. I never met him, nor his family, but when I look at his pictures on facebook, he appears to be full of life and joy. And perhaps a bit cheeky.

John was killed in a car accident on his way to work. Likely during the same early hours that Rob leaves for work. I am almost always sleeping when Rob leaves for work, although over the past few weeks, due to the craziness of my school, I have been up at 6:00am, and we see each other before he leaves for work. Otherwise, I don't normally get up until 7:30am, and Rob's already been working for half an hour. I cannot imagine getting that phone call.

When Rob comes home from work, I'm usually fine until around 6:00pm. But once the clock turns to 6:01pm, I get a little knot in my stomach, which only gets bigger as time passes. If we haven't previously discussed Rob being late, it just creates an uneasy feeling in me. It has most definitely crossed my mind on a few occasions, that one of these days, he could be one out of the thousands of commuters in Edmonton who just doesn't make it through the rush hour craze.

I am grieved to hear that this has become a reality for another mother and wife. I didn't know her, but I think on some level, this is the greatest fear for a lot of us. I've heard of many a story like this in my lifetime. The husband/father dies in a plane crash. Or a car crash. Or on a ski hill of a heart attack. Or dies of cancer. I asked Rob why this is, why is it never the Mother (at least in my experience, its rare), he said, "Maybe kids need their Mom more." I don't think there is ever an easy answer. Actually no, I don't think there is ever an answer. Or perhaps there is just never a suitable answer for such tragedies.

And forgive me, I realize that natural disasters, and genocide, and starving children, and all the sheer evils taking place all over the world right now are far more appropriate circumstances for a term like tragedy. But in my little bubble, this is one of my greatest fears, thus one of the most realistic tragedies I can fathom in my little life space. Not one that keeps me awake at night, but one that I've often considered. Rob questioned what the protocol might be when Dad doesn't make it home from work. I don't think there is one. Ever.

Another interesting aspect of this story is to see the role that social media has played. His wife updated his facebook status in order to let people know about it. Within hours of his death. This may seem crass to some, but you must agree, its a simple way to get the word out to hundreds of friends. The funeral has also become a facebook "event." To see "Rob is attending John's funeral" on his list of activities just doesn't seem right, for many reasons.

For me, this story has helped to remind me of what matters. Unfortunately, this is far too often just a short-lived remembrance. I so easily return to my pettiness. I return to my nagging. My critical ways. So as I've been going through these past few days I've really been trying to focus on, what if he didn't make it home? Would those blasted socks matter? Would I really care about the forgotten item from the grocery store? Or the umpteenth time I've had to remind him of whatever?

Nope. None of it would matter. At all. Yet, why is it that when I'm not considering the permanent absence of my partner, my best friend, and the father of my children, they seem to?