Not such a great weekend

So, my weekend was bad. Really bad. Really, really, really bad. I think it would rate as my number 1 all-time crappy and utterly devastating weekend. You know how in bad dreams and terrible nightmares, everything happens that is catastrophic and totally unbearable, and then you wake up in tears and drenched with sweat? And you can barely believe that you are, in fact, awake, because the nightmare was so vivid and horrible? That almost happened this weekend for me, except that when I woke up, the nightmare was reality. On Thursday night, we had Barrett diagnosed with pneumonia, which in itself is not so fun, but kind of "routine" with my kids, for some strange reason. He had a bad night, but nothing really bad. Then, Friday morning comes. I received a phone call from my Mom telling me that she was in the emergency room with my sister Steph and her one-month-old baby son, Boston. Boston was cold and not breathing, and the prognosis wasn't good. Needless to say, my heart dropped to the floor, and for a moment, I couldn't even process what I had just heard. After a frantic phone call to Colby, we went to the hospital to be with my sister and the rest of my family. By the time we got there, Boston had passed away. They think he had actually died at home, and they tried everything medically possible to revive and save him, but to no avail. There is nothing in the world so unthinkably unfair and wrong as the death of a child, especially one so young and healthy. My heart feels so black and cold, and nothing can make it right. And my heart aches for my sister. I wish with all my heart that I could make it better, and take away all her pain. I cannot even pretend to understand the depth of her sadness and loss. My whole world seems so fragile and fleeting and uncertain now. I want to hold my kids and never let them out of my sight, even for a moment. I want to go to work with Colby because I never want to see him leave, even for a routine 8 hour workday. I just want to take Steph and wrap her in my arms and somehow transfer all of her sorrow and despair and pain to me, and make her feel better. Even though I know that nothing will ever make it better. Nothing. Can anything make it better? Or if not better, at least a little less terrible? I know that everyone says in times such as these, you just cling to your faith and trust that God has a plan and that all will be well in the end. You know, that is all well and good, but for now, I have to be honest and say- that just seems like a cheap cop-out somehow. That really doesn't seem very helpful. It doesn't bring Boston back, it doesn't make Steph's sorrow go away, it just doesn't seem to do anything except say, in different wording, "Boy, life sure is capricious and rotten at times, isn't it?" Anyway, those of you who know me understand that I am a certified pessimistic, cynical doomsayer. But I have to say, that sure does seem like an awfully REALISTIC viewpoint on the world right about now. I am going to try to exercise a small particle of optimism and hope that in a few days or weeks, I can start believing that God does have a plan, but for now, please, if you would, remember my sweet sister Steph in your prayers right now. She really needs some extra support and strength. Her burden right now is one that nobody should have to bear...