Life is but a dream to me, I don't want to wake up!

It's funny (for lack of a better word) that the magnitude of things in your life can shift so unexpectedly that things once so very massive in perception are now microscopic. Why does it take losing something, or even someone, to get a real grasp on reality? Are we as a human race so engulfed into our own day to day routines that bigger issues like terrorism and daily injustice fade to black when when they encounter our callused exteriors?

At first listen, it didn't sink in. Hell - at fourth listen it didn't sink it. I didn't think it was real. It couldn't be real, like one of my closest links said: "Shit like this rarely happens to our family." I don't want times like this to bring out love in an artificial way. I want the genuine love that I know is always fundamentally embedded in our clan to flourish at all times. On the other hand, how is it possible to want something so much that at times you know deep down you don't always give yourself? And more important, in the face of crisis - does it even matter?

How do you comfort the comforter? How is it emotionally possible to fathom your spouses' funeral within the same year that you first said "I Do" in front of all of your familial pillars? It's always said that God only lets you experience what he knows you will handle, so deep down I know that my cuddly teddy bear will have the steel-like exterior and at times interior to deal with everything that's threatening to break him down.