It does not compute!

First of all, please forgive me for allowing myself to throw this pity party. Writing has always been a good way for me to deal with feelings that I am unable to totally wrap my brain around. That's where I am today. Something has happened. Something awful has happened, and I find myself totally baffled by my inability to comprehend it and deal with it. I am almost fifty-five years old, but I have still not learned anything from my life experiences that is of any use to me at a time like this.

It all began on Wednesday, June 19^th. As you know from my last post, I was off enjoying a great camping trip at Kerrville Schreiner Park with my dog Nicky. You can read more about that in that last post, so I won't bother with the details of that, except to say that, due to Nicky's overdoing it on the trails, we were spending the afternoon locked up in the Colby T. Nicky was snoozing. I was bored out of my mind. I read a little. I napped a little. I watched the one channel I could get on TV a little. Then I got my phone and checked email. This message was waiting for me from my principal:

Please pray for Michelle Werland. She had some complications from a minor procedure and is in intensive care at N. Central Baptist...prayers are needed.

I wasn't concerned all that much. It didn't sound like anything major at that moment. I sent a prayer request to my church and said some prayers of my own for Michelle. Then, I returned to my boredom.

I walked Nicky around the campsite so he could do his business. I cooked and ate my dinner. I read a little. I watched the one channel I could get on TV a little. I started to doze off, and the phone rang. It was a teacher from my school. She shared more information with me and told me that some of our people were meeting at school the next day for a prayer session. Things were not looking good. Michelle was not doing well. I would explain that better, but I was only half listening due to a growing wave of nausea that was developing inside me. We ended our call, and I called another friend, Ann, to pass the information on.

The next morning, I woke up at 6:00 am and put the wheels in motion for an early return to San Antonio. I had already planned on that since hiking with Nicky was no longer a viable option at the park. Now, however, I wanted- no needed- to be at the school by 11:30.

Much to my amazement, almost every staff member from our school was there. I was torn between “How wonderful for us all to come together like this!” and “This is too sad. I want to escape.” It was very solemn. Our wonderful principal, Vickie Tschirhart, stood before us and told us that Michelle had no sign of brain activity. She told us another test was going to be done to see if blood was getting to her brain. She reminded us that our God is a God of miracles, and charged us to pray for a miracle right then and there. With Vickie's phone set to speaker and another placed next to Michelle's ear in the hospital, we said a prayer for recovery followed by the Catholic rosary. Afterwards, we all stood in a giant circle holding hands for the Lord's Prayer followed by listening to a beautiful song about falling into the Lord. Some of us stayed a while and talked. Eventually we all went our own ways.

I went home in a state that I can not even explain. Michelle was a wonderful kind woman. She had been my youngest son's teacher in fourth grade. I watched her become a young mother. I watched her family grow before my eyes. She was one of those rare special people that everyone loved. She had a beautiful sweet smile all the time. I am haunted by it now. I can not get the image of her smiling kindly at me out of my mind.

Life went on that afternoon and evening. The last game of the NBA finals was a good distraction. It wasn't a perfect one. Every time I got a message on my phone, I expected it to be bad news, even though I was wishing for a miracle. I went to bed that night and lay there for at least an hour trying to comprehend how this could happen to such a wonderful young wife and mother. In the morning, the news was not good. I learned that there was still no brain activity. The two young boys were going to be told about thier mother. 

I barely know Michelle's husband, Anthony. We have met. He is a very nice young man in his own right. But, I don't really know him. None the less, I can't stop feeling a kinship with him that is really affecting me perhaps more than it should. He had a wife that he loved dearly. He has two sons by her. His life seemed close to perfect, and it just disappeared in a matter of seconds when Michelle succumbed to a headache. It is so close to home for me. I, too, have a wife I love dearly, two sons by her, and a life that I feel is as close to perfect as it can be. What would I do? How would I go on? How would I continue to be a good father to my sons? I just can't even imagine what that poor dear man is going through. All I know is that there, but for the grace of God, go I!

I already apologized for the pity party. I am fully aware that this tragedy is not mine. I didn't lose a loved one. My life won't change as a result of this. I know all that. I learned a long time ago that life is for the living. I have experienced the way life goes on around us normally no matter what dire straits we find ourselves in. But knowing that doesn't help me right now. I don't have the words to explain how horrible I feel. I can tell you that my heart is breaking for Anthony and his two young sons. I can tell you that I feel like the wind has been let out of my sails,and the rug has been pulled out from under me. I can tell you that there is some strange panicky feeling inside of me that frightens me in an almost irrational way. I can tell you that I am totally confused by all of it. I have that same feeling in my gut I get on a roller coaster, and damn it! I want to get off!

I am trying to rely on my faith now. But, that is not doing it for me like it has before when I have lost loved ones. Fire took my nephew. Drowning took my young cousin. Cancer or old age took my parents, grand parents, aunts and uncles. I could understand those things as horrible as they were. But this one I don't understand. There was no accident. There was no cancer. There was no old age. How could this happen to such a young and healthy person. To be here one day and gone the next. It does not compute. It does not compute. It does not compute.

Don't worry. My faith isn't gone. It's bruised up a bit, but I am still praying over it all. I'm still asking my Lord to be with and comfort Michelle's family, friends, and the Carson community. I'm asking His help to accept what I do not, and may not ever, understand. That's all I can do. That's all anyone can do, and it just isn't enough.