Before I left for work this morning I checked my email to see if there had been any update on K. Nothing in the inbox. As I arrived at the office, I asked the secretary if there had been any news. She shook her head and I knew ... he didn't make it. Turns out, he didn't even make it through the night. In fact, when I posted my blog last night, he'd already passed.
K is gone. He died surrounded by his family and loved ones. The tubes are out. He's at peace.
To some degree, we each have our own idea of faith, religion and the afterlife. I am Jewish but my opinions/beliefs are not 100% clear. I know what I want to believe. I want to believe there is a G-d (I was taught never to write out G-d's name so it couldn't be destroyed ... hence the hyphen) and that He has a greater purpose. That all things do happen for a reason. That the only reason K would have died so young is because G-d needed him up in Heaven. That there is a Heaven. That we are surrounded by our loved ones (including of the canine variety) who passed away before us. I want to believe all of this. And when someone as young and innocent as K dies, there is a part of me, of all of us probably, that needs to believe this. I need to believe that G-d had bigger plans for K than being here on Earth. I need to believe that whatever Heaven really is, K is up there now looking down on us. Maybe K is now L's guardian angel, protecting her and looking over her during her recovery.
I need to believe that.
Is it the truth? I don't know. But it is what I choose to believe.