This morning, I learned on Instagram that a fellow blogger lost her adorable little boy after he ran after a frisbee and was hit by a truck. He was simply in the wrong spot at the wrong moment.
An hour later I learned that another Instagram friend lost her 20-year-old daughter in a car accident.
I have been thinking of both those families, especially their moms, all day.
Their lives will never be the same.
There is no prayer, no begging, nothing that will bring back these precious kids. Nothing that will make this better, ever. What a tragedy, what loss.
Thinking about this makes me feel bad for ever being upset with L for not listening or not brushing his teeth. For ever forgetting just for one second how blessed I am to be the mom of this sweet boy.
L went to a playdate right after school and so he was gone all day, and I longed to see him and hug him and be near him so much that I almost went by his school to see him. I felt like picking him up early from the playdate — but I didn’t because I knew he was having fun with his best friend.
Instead I went to Target and shopped at Pier 1 for a blog campaign, something I had looked forward to for weeks, but I couldn’t enjoy it. I didn’t get the work done I wanted to get done, made a costly mistake missing a deadline, and the day got away from me.
But that doesn’t matter. All that matters is this: I get to cuddle up with my little boy. I can’t imagine my life without him. I’m blessed.