Thursday = Red (on Tuesday)

So here you have red day, late. Princess has been so cute, she keeps asking me what color today is, and since we ran out, I've been letting her choose :)
This is the bag we packed for Princess when we went to the hospital to have Bear.
Another new cook book from the Boise Public Library sale.
Little red leather box my mom gave to Princess for Valentine's Day.

Red chair my dad gave the kids for Christmas and a little Rageddy Ann & Andy pillow from Rosena.
Red tulip from the yard--planted by the neighbors in secret a few years ago and still coming up each Spring.
Bushes on the way home from our walk.
Have you ever seen strawberries screaming to be filled more than these? Cheesecake? Whipped cream? Nutella?

~~~

It has been a sad seven days. The death of a friend's husband in a tragic, horrific accident and the death of another friend's precious baby girl, soon to be adopted, in a poor foreign country far away from this family that adores her. I believe in life after death, I believe that families will be together in that life as they were in this one, and yet the suffocating pain of loss is so real and so heartbreaking. It is comforting to know they live on, but crushing that they are missing from our circles of family and friendship for who knows how long. No hugging, no birthday parties, no weddings. That's hard and it's lonely.

I've struggled the last few days, wondering how to support and comfort Keeley and now Michelle because I desperately want to do something. I'm not as close to either of them as I'd like to be--life is busy for everyone and it is a constant struggle to make time for the most important things, like friendships. I have a great fear (as many do) of making it worse. Of offending or hurting them, of making it all more unbearable than it already is. I've pondered what I would want, and come up with nothing I feel is useful because everyone grieves differently. What I would want may not be what they would want. I have heard that the worst thing is to do nothing, to stay away . . . so I'm mostly resolved not to, if I can figure out what shape my not staying away should take. It's hard to think of what comes next, though. How do they go on? How do we walk beside them through the valley?

There is a beautiful blog by the wife of Todd Smith (from the group Selah), about the birth and loss of their daughter Audrey and it's a place I've gone on and off the past month. Angela Smith is a woman of great faith, and in her honesty about grief and belief she has brought me a lot of comfort. The strange thing is that when I first stumbled on her blog, I wasn't grieving for anyone. This week, I've been grateful for a place to go that helps me remember that the Creator has a purpose for each of us and though it isn't always what we think it will be or what feels right to us, but if we keep on believing and holding on, we're going to be alright.