Jue Puta

Well, thank goodness I've learned to swear in Spanish, today calls for it.

The day started well. I went out for a sushi dinner with my swiss friend last night, had a great night's sleep, got word this morning that my Baltimroe friends made plane reservations for our trip to Boston, and even had a great meeting today at work.

Then I went to lunch. It was awful (bad omen, but to be fair, if a bad lunch in our cafeteria was always taken as a bad omen, very little good would ever come my way...). When I returned to my desk, there was a message from my best friend in my inbox telling me her brother in law had died suddenly in his sleep yesterday morning. He was 23. He was the best man in their wedding three months ago. And he was her husband's only brother. It took me two hours to finally get through to her on the phone. Oh my God. This is why I have to go home. I can't be this far away when people I love are hurting.

Me, I always liked Nicky. He was the sweetest guy ever (people always say that when someone is gone, but in this case it was so true). As my friend said, he always got along with everybody. In the six years she knew him, they never fought once. He was fair and thoughtful and good. And he was a good dancer (I can vouch for that from the wedding). He had a wonderful sense of humor, and he looked up to his older brother with so much love and admiration. They were really fun to watch together. I seriously can't believe he's gone.

What can you do from so far away? How can we mourn and grieve and support the people we love from (seemingly) the other side of the world. And, even more imporantly, how do we do it up close? Grief is so difficult and so individual. And how do you deal with faith during grief? I remember during 9/11 I was working for an agency of the Catholic Church. That morning, we held a mass for the victims. And I'll never forget what our priest said. He said, in times of trouble, we can draw comfort from the rituals and devotions developed through the wisdom of the past 2000 years. And, in fact, that day he said the Mass for peace. There was, for me, a comfort in the familiar words and actions and psalms. I hope and pray that the unexpectedly familiar rituals will give this family some measure of peace over the coming days. And I pray that God will gift each of them with the grace to live through this trying time, and eventually, to allow Nicky's memory and spirit to be a part of their lives that come after.

If you can, say a special prayer for Nicky, his brother, my friend and their family. They could use all of the love they can get right now.