White Knuckles

You know what is really weird, time. Time is weird. Really weird. I can't stop thinking about it. How much it affects us and how weird it is. I literally can't wrap my head around it. Time is everywhere. We wear it on our wrist. It is on our phone. We plan everything around it. The world runs on time. God created it when he said, "Let there be light." And there is either too much of it, or not enough, yet it is always the same.

Weird, right? I know.

10 short days ago. Mike and I were outside shoveling 18 inches of snow away from our heater vent, that is when I heard the screaming.

Then, time moved really really really fast even at a frantic pace. Mr. Steve-my-sweet-friend-had-fallen-and-was-on-the-ground-he-wasn't-breathing. So many people. Flashing Lights. 9-1-1. CPR! He has to start breathing, right? Run! MIKE! Is he allergic to any medicines? Confusion! Let's go! No time to waste! Hurry!

Then.

Somehow.

Mollie, Jill and I are in a car following the ambulance. We are holding on tight to each other. Our hands are cold. Our cheeks are chapped with tears. Our knuckles are white because we are gripping each other so tightly. We will not let go. I have never been so scared. I am praying, no I am pleading to God, please change this reality. Please sweet Lord, please breathe life back into Steve, give us more time with him.


Time is now moving very, very slowly.


I think how Jill would give just about anything to have him back. And how their life together was so short. Time moving fast.

Then I think about our adoption. And how it is taking so long. And how sad I am and have been for missing another Christmas with our child(ren). And the time that I am missing in their lives that I will never get back. Time moving slow.

Time is weird.

I am still processing.

Mike (left) Mr. Steve (right)