I had planned on posting about our wonderful Christmas next, and I still will, but unfortunately I need to blog about some sad news first.
Just as the hubs and I had pulled into our driveway Sunday afternoon, we received a heartbreaking phone call. His godparents had been crossing the street in Charleston Christmas night when they were hit by a car. The hubs godmother was killed instantly and his godfather was rushed to MUSC.
Nobody wants to receive this phone call any time of the year, but during Christmas it just seems that much more painful. This time of the year is filled with family and hope and gratitude. You're thankful for everything you have in your life, then suddenly something, someone, is taken abruptly from you without warning. I can't help but ask why. Why now? Why that way?
The hubs godfather is a man of great faith. Here is a man laying in a hospital bed with broken bones and his wife had just been taken from him, yet his simple words restore the calm inside of me.
Her work on earth was done and it was time for her to go home to God.
While it still hurts I feel at peace. There is no doubt in my mind that St. Peter held open the gates for her to enter without hesitation.
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