an extra long hug

This was going to be a blog post about Jack's time with his grandparents this week, and I will get to that eventually, but when I sat down to write I got a very sad email from a friend about another friend we knew in high-school. I didn't realize this, but her daughter was born on the same day as Jack. And three days ago, she passed away in her sleep from complications of SIDS. This horrifying and shocking news is something I don't even know how to process, and somehow hits me even harder knowing that she was the exact same age as Jack. My heart goes out to her and her family and I wish there was something I could do, but I know there really isn't. For a tragedy like this, the proper condolence hasn't been invented. In lieu of flowers, the family is asking "those with children to give them an extra long hug and to tell them you love them; those with parents please do the same." So I'm writing to tell you, mom and dad, we love you. Melissa and Bill, we love you. Grandma, we love you. Alison and Chris and Matthew and Ethan and Thomas and little unborn Ava, we love you love you love you. I am watching Jack sleep right now, breathing a sigh of relief every time he stirs, and anxious for him to wake up so I can thank god that he did. And I will give him an extra long hug and tell him I love him, even though he doesn't even understand what that means yet. But I understand enough for both of us.