Kids and grief and plane crashes

As the whole world learns that Malaysian Airlines Flight MH370 “ended in the Southern Indian Ocean” and “all lives are lost,” some little kid will be learning that he/she no longer has a mother. Or a father. Or a brother. Or an aunt.

No one can explain how or why. I definitely can’t. Until now, I can only say that the C130 my father was riding almost 21 years ago was blown away by the wind.  As proper authorities try to unweave this mystery, understand this: you will be okay. This is what I’m sure of. You’re going to be fine—if you choose to be.

It’s going to be sad. You’re going to cry. As go through time, you will have moments of wistfulness: proms, weddings, family affairs. Moments when you can’t help but wonder, “What if?”

The beauty—because there’s no other word for it—of losing someone at an age when any loss is like leaving behind a doll at a mall is that there is only one choice for you. To pick yourself up. Cry then continue living. Because you’re here and your life is not lost.

Life will sometimes feel like there’s a gaping hole that can’t be filled, but you’ll move on. Because you’ve moved on from something much more difficult. And with the love and support of the rest of your family and friends, nothing will ever be too insurmountable.

*This is just my two-cent sentiment. I grew up with a really supportive family and for me, I never lacked in the emotional aspect. Context here. I find it quite peculiar that, at 24, I know two people who died from a plane crash. One of them, of course, was my father. 

 

**Until the actual plane has been found, my fingers are crossed that my Langoliers theory is true. 😦  #thisiswhatstephenkingdoestomylife!

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