The death of a child.
I cannot, for the life of me, fathom why things like that happen. I mean, I know there's a reason, and I know that it's all part of God's plan, but I just don't get it.
Yesterday, a boy from our neighborhood died. Sixteen years old.
Roughly two years ago, he was diagnosed with ALS (or Lou Gherig's disease). I was driving to my mom's house (they live in the same neighborhood as we do) and saw a handicap ramp in front of this family's home. I had assumed that they had taken in an elderly relative; after all, the parents were in their 40's, the kids in their late teens..what other explanation could there be, right? Not so. The youngest child had a couple of spells, where he'd fallen, almost for no reason. He seemed to be weakening. No one understood why this healthy 14 yr old was deteriorating. Trips to the doctor eventually revealed his diagnosis, which to this day seems impossible to me. Young people don't get ALS. That's an elderly persons disease, right? Sadly, wrong.
My heart just aches for them. This was their baby, their only boy, with an entire lifetime ahead of him. All of that promise and hope for the future now wiped out. And it makes me sad. It makes me angry.
Yet, at the same time, it makes me thankful. Thankful that even though my son drives me insane most days, I am fortunate enough to have him here with me. That is a blessing that I was sadly reminded yesterday not every parent has.