All Good Things Must Come to an End

This week has been a crazy one.  Filled with accidents, purposes, and tragedies.  This week has been filled with moments and events that have made me really think.  & I would like to get some of those thoughts off my chest.

Earlier this week I received a call from my mother.  This is not an abnormal occurrence, however the news was.  A young girl who I went to high school with was killed in a car accident.

"Was she texting?" I asked.
"No," my mother replied.
"Well whose fault was it?"

Is that sad that the accident always has to be someone's fault?  That we are so quick to place blame?  That maybe blaming someone makes it better or less bad?

In reality the young woman was killed by an elderly woman who lost control of the vehicle and hit her as a pedestrian in a parking lot.  & here is where my thought process begins....

Was it God's plan for her to die that way?
With such unexpected and accidental deaths, do you think God knew that was how she would go?
Did it hurt?
Did she die instantly?
Did she see the truck coming?

We'll never know the answers to these questions, but is it bad that deaths are the only times that we ask them?

Later that night I received a text asking if I had heard from my dad that day.  I replied "No, why?", and frantically began worrying about my grandma, my brothers, my dad.  As the messages flowed back and forth I gained knowledge that one of my dad's life-long friends had taken his own life just a day after my family and I had spent the weekend holiday with him.

Suicide is a very touchy subject, one I won't venture too far into because I know if affects a lot of people, and I know people have very strong and varied opinions about it.

However I will say a few things.  Will he get to go to heaven?  Did he have the act planned out?  Did he try to place blame on someone?  What happens to his children, who now have to grow up without their father?

The viewing was tonight and I ran into my dad towards the end as my mother and I were approaching the receiving line.  I have only seen my father cry once before, at the funeral of my Great-Grandma Fagan whom he loved dearly.  Watching my big, burly, strong, fearless dad in such a weak and vulnerable state really shook me up.  It also made me realize how much I take him for granted.  Death has a way of doing that.  My dad and I have not always had the strongest relationship, but who knows when it will be taken from either of us?

This is a reality I'm not ready to face. & even if it's bad to just be reminded of our blessings when others' blessings are taken, I'm considering it a blessing that I was reminded at all.