Had to take a break from working all night to pause before midnight and think a bit about Matt, Ellen and Ella who all lost a loved one today, Emma.

If it weren’t for the countless array of blogs, videos and twitters to remind, report and reflect, I don’t think even my overactive imagination would have fathomed the depth of today’s tragedy. I don’t often cry for people I don’t know well enough to call close friends. Usually, I save those tears for unexpected footage of nuclear explosions and bad things happening to kittens.

But for this, knowing Matt very little and never having met Ellen and Ella, or Emma when I had the chance, I can’t keep working all night, pretending that it doesn’t have an impact.

Lena is 36 weeks and 3 days today. Our midwife checked us out today and everything looks great. Every now and then, I worry about something happening. What if we lost the baby somehow? What if something happened to Lena? What if something happened to both of them? What would I do?
I’ve been thinking about these things a lot lately. Not just even about the baby but suddenly, what if my brother died? What about my mom? or my sister? Would I be able to keep working? Would I move to Thailand and become a monk?
Some part of me (the tactless, villainously selfish portion of my brain) thinks, “at least they still have Ella”. How they would be able to hold together and remain human if they didn’t, I hope will remain a mystery.

I am amazed at the strength the Kowalczyk family has managed to muster and praise their close friends and relatives for keeping them sane. If it weren’t for the strange property of blogs, which allows a person to speak without really speaking out, I would not be able to form words on this subject. I don’t shed tears when I see pictures or videos of Emma. I only shed them when I think of standing in front of Matt and Ellen, trying to formulate something to say. There are no verbal algorithms for this.

Recent related posts:
Matt’s blog
Maislen: Goodby Emma
5 things Stephen Toulouse Learned from Emma