How old are you...? Pink.

Sometimes blogging is too public... but sometimes I need a place to let it all out. It's been 3 years since I've logged on to this blog, it was like digging through my past trying to find a different person. Trying to remember screen names and passwords and trying to figure out how to use blogger again. Why is it so hard to find the "new post" button?? But crawling back up into this old person, while it doesn't feel familiar, it feels comfortable and private. And that's what I need. If anyone reads this post, it won't be for weeks... months... years.

 Today I went to a press conference. It was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my 25 years. I stood on Hawthorne Boulevard and listened to family members talk about their lost loved ones. And I cried.

 I really don't understand. I think about it and cry because how could anything this awful and tragic be a part of God's plan? And then I cry when I think about my ever-loving, all-knowing God and how his heart must have broken as he watched this family sleep moments before their lives were turned upside down. He wept over Lazarus.. how He must weep over us when He sees our pain.

I keep saying my heart is broken for them... but how is that fair? I only knew them for a day and I only took 3 photographs of them. I'm not family... I'm hardly more than an acquaintance. Who am I to mourn with them? But my heart still hurts. :[

Since I heard the news on Saturday night two of the best, most healing and most difficult things happened today: 1. Seeing, hugging and crying with Carolina. As selfish as it may sound I needed her to know I cared and that I am crying with her. 2. Admitting out loud, as irrational and absolutely crazy as it sounds, that a part of me doesn't want to photograph people anymore for fear that they will die. I am so thankful to have a friend who listens.

I might be sad for a long time. :[