Reality

A friend's son was killed in a snowmobile accident near my old hometown.  Being that he was alone, nobody knows for certain what happened, or even worse, how long he was on the ground before someone found him.  All I know is that it is no good, and it is one of those moments, those human events, that slaps one back to reality.  I thought I was paying attention.

I am saddened by news from home.  Once again it is both a cushion and a stone being so far away from home.  It's a cushion because I can isolate myself from the anguish, though it eventually comes, I know this now.  But this is more a friend's anguish, and for that reason I wish I were home - to be able to help in any way possible.  Perhaps there is nothing I could do if I were there.  But it stings, nonetheless.