Tired.

Remember when I wrote the post about that moment when time stops and your world changes? When I wrote that, one of those moments had just happened to me. ONE of those moments.

For most of us, for most of our lives, we never have to experience those times. Our routines, the mundane normalcy of our lives, is something we come to count on usually without even knowing that we do count on it. Get up, get ready for work, take the kids to school, make a dollar, come home, fix dinner, drive to dance, guitar, baseball, go to bed, do it over again. In the center of that cycle, even the smallest things, like a lost shoe or a broken glass, anything that jars us out of the safety of routine, can push us to irritation and anger, heck, even self pity. But what if, in our life machine, someone threw an anvil on the conveyor belt. What if "that" moment in your life became one that drew everything you knew to a screeching halt? Your normal was gone and you longed for routine, any routine?

Yesterday my friend K drove to some land he owned and killed himself. He left behind his wife G and their daughter K2. They are a part of our dance family. There is a group of us who have been together for years cheering on our girls, organizing schedules, attending birthday parties, and just being friends. K and his family were part of the group that traveled the 3 hours to Dallas not long ago just to be there for a birthday of another of the group. We are a family inside the dance studio, our own clan. And, while K’s decision to end his life, pulled the plug on my system for a few minutes, I cannot begin to understand the destruction his choice has done to G & K2. I will hold her hand and sweep her kitchen floor. I will fold towels and leave when she needs to be alone. I will do whatever she asks of me, and some things no one thinks to ask. I will feed her dog and go to KFC for K2. I will cry and I will pray.

And, I will ask you to pray.

What else can I do?