This weekend has been an emotional one. It was great because I ran 12 miles on Saturday, in preparation for my half marathon, which is coming up fast. It was lousy because Mike and I got into a huge, horrible fight on Friday night. We do not fight often, but when we do, we do it pretty well. It was one of those fights where you've been holding so much in and, of course, at an inopportune time, you let it all go. We slowly worked things out on Saturday night, after hours of not talking and short answers, and by the time we went to church Sunday morning, we were back to normal.
But Sunday morning I logged onto facebook, and found out a classmate of mine, G, had passed away in a freak motorcycle accident. I haven't seen or spoken to this man in over 15 years, but it really shook me to my core. I am from a small town on Long Island where everyone knows everyone else. Whenever I go home for a visit I always run into someone in the deli or grocery store.
What made this so sad is that G was married to another local girl, and they have three children. He was 37. In an odd twist, my brother was at his house yesterday afternoon, working with him on some plumbing issues. My brother knew him through work, my mother knew him because he used to work on her car. My brother said they were just spending an afternoon working on the house, and when my brother left at 5:30, G was leaving to go and get his hair cut. Apparently he was killed when a car accidentally pulled in front of him in a parking lot, and he died a few hours later.
I've been fighting tears all day. Tears for someone I knew as a kid, but not anymore. I think I'm bugging out because this could have been any of us. Going out for an hour, then getting home to enjoy the rest of the weekend. That didn't happen for him, and now his wife is a widow.
I hate sad posts, but I had to do this one. I wish peace to G and his family. And to you.