Stunned and Numb

I was meandering through the shiny new Publix after work today, and my phone rang. I saw that it was Mommy Lipstick, and I felt very happy. Pretty Girl has required every bedtime trick in the Supernanny arsenal the last few days, and Mommy Lipstick and I have been playing phone tag.

I was completely shocked when she told me that a friend from childhood was killed on the stretch of road just down from their house. It has always been a busy road, though much busier in recent years. Beneath a hill in a blind spot another car was going the wrong direction. A head-on collision at highway speeds snuffed out the life of my friend. Her two year child was, of course, safely restrained, and survived (uninjured, I believe).

It is a bit of an exaggeration to say that we were childhood friends; it is really more accurate to say we were nursery buddies. Her younger sister and I are the same age, and we toddled along together in the church nursery. I am sure that seems like yesterday to her grieving parents.

We attended different schools, had completely different lives really, but we grew up in the same county with so many of the same experiences that are typical of small town life in the South. I feel an extra measure of grief because of that.

As I was driving the kids home from daycare, I had the sunroof open to the 72 degree air. The sun was shining through the newly blossoming trees. I glanced in the back seat and saw the bow in Pretty Girl's hair. I couldn't help but think that my friend will never have the opportunity to attend to such details of her children's lives. No more baths. No more days in the park. I felt like a colossal weight rested on my chest and my eyes burned with tears. Life is precious and so very fragile.