The heartache of grief leaves a wound that seems extremely easy to open again at a moments notice. Death is a part of life. Sometimes this is the sad truth, and sometimes this is the reason to live. When death starts to knock on the same familiar door, it can be hard to understand why?  Why us, why now?

Tony’s dad is sick. Really sick. He is in the hospital in Denver. They are good doctors and there is amazing technology anymore, so he is receiving the best possible care. But even with that, this is a risky time. He is weak and frail from being ill for weeks and there is a necessary surgery today. They need to know how to treat him, but this surgery will be very tough on his body. So we pray. We rally and we pray. We lean on each other and on God. We pray. We try to see the bigger picture. The fact that worrying doesn’t fix anything. The fact that we are ultimately not in control of our lives or the lives of those we love.

My heart hurts for all of my family…my in-laws, my boys. I am going to go to be with them, although I have to leave the boys because they are not allowed into this area of the hospital. I will stand around waiting and awkwardly making conversation with my brother-in-laws. All of us wishing Tony was here to give his big hugs and to make inappropriate, off color jokes as we are all worried a little too much. If Tony was here, he would have been by his dads side since the minute he went to the hospital. Tony knew how to love. And he loved his dad on the outside, not ever hiding it from the world. Sometimes men find it hard to love even their closest family and friends on the outside, but not Tony. Life had shown him that we can’t let insecurity or societal norms dictate how we show affection for others. This life is the one we have, there isn’t a second chance at this. It is cool to love. It is cool to hug. It is cool to have people you want to love. It is cool to be a man whose people never question his commitment to being in their life.

As I think about what it would mean to lose another Mr. Schmucker…the Mr. Schmucker, I am sad. It hurts a lot. But I do know that he and Tony being together again would be a happy thing for him. He has so dearly missed him. Probably about as much as I have. Even so, I hope his time here is not done just yet. I pray for him to recover and to take the extra time to smell the flowers, take slow walks, read good books, hold his wife’s hand, eat good (heart healthy) food, and enjoy some of the fruits of his many, many years of labor and love. Maybe make it to see his grandson ride a skateboard just like Tony. Make some time to sit and tell the stories of his youth to his eleven grandkids. Be a part of many the big moments to come in the lives of his sons and daughter.

And for me, I would like him to make it to see me find the new life that is coming. For him to approve and to be happy for our future, the future of Tony’s boys.

I pray for peace. For him, for the family, and for the process.

And today, especially today, I say do not miss a chance to love on the outside!