The most amazing thing about losing someone is that the world does not stop. Your entire life stands still and a foggy haze clouds your thoughts and your mind. You walk past a restaurant and think, “How can they eat? Don’t they know what has happened?” You watch the cars driving past on the interstate and you want to scream, “Why are you going so fast? Don’t you know what has happened?” Friends and family bring you food, flowers and gifts and you want to shake them and say, “Is this supposed to replace him?” But instead you say, “Thank you.” Because they don’t understand. The world moves so quickly. Everyone else in your life keeps going, so, eventually, you do too. You slowly come out of your haze and increase your pace. As the years pass, you are functioning again, setting aside one day a year to remember and cry. And what you remember is how sharp and real the pain is. You remember that even though so many years have passed, the pain has not. You have just forced it into a little box in your heart so that you can keep up with life. Take care of other kids, pay bills, clean the house. On the one day that you allow yourself to grieve, you wonder how you will close the lid at the end of the day.
Today there are thousands of families who are grieving. The entire nation is remembering the acts, but only a few thousand really understand the tragedy of the loss. My heart is breaking for those families and I wish them peace.