I’ve been meaning to write. Life has kept me busy, but not in any interesting ways. And there are a few things that I’ve been rolling around in my head and just haven’t gotten down on paper… or computer screen. I didn’t realize it had been quite as long as it has since I last posted.
Those of you in Kalamazoo, from Kalamazoo, friends with anyone who lives here… You already know what happened Tuesday evening. About a mile north of my parents’ house, on a stretch of road just south of one of the house one of my best friends lived in, a driver ran into nine cyclists, killing five of them. (Trigger Warning! There are photos at the top of that article that may be difficult to look at.)
It’s times like this that remind all of us that Kalamazoo is, in fact, a small town. Everyone I know knew someone who was injured or killed. But then there are the people like my dad. He was friends with three of the five who died.
I avoided Facebook all day on Wednesday, especially after I learned who the victims were. I used to walk that road to visit Jess. My mom and I still regularly walk that way to take Anna to the park. This isn’t going to change that. But it hurt too much to see the news.
Kalamazoo is a small town. We all know each other. And for the second time this year, we’re all grieving together.