Why didn’t I see it coming? 
Why didn’t I stop it? 
What could I have said?
What could I have done differently? 
Why….

All those questions that start with that little word.  The one that usually has an answer and it isn’t that difficult to find.  Why is the sky blue?  Why is it already noon?  Why do I look great in this particular sweater?  Why am I so tired?  Why is the house such a mess?  Why do I feel like this?

There’s an answer that’s easy to find to any of these questions… The blue is an illusion of color from how light travels. Time moves quickly when you’re having fun or not paying attention. It also seems rapid when working too much or being lazy. 

The sweater looks so great because it’s my color. So, I feel amazing in it and that feeling I have inside comes outside and the sweater ends up looking great!  I went to bed too late last night… I woke up too early.  The kids have been playing all day, leaving the evidence of the mess all over the house. 

I’m really letting myself be sad or happy. I just got news. There are so many answers to why.   It’s just that when there’s not an answer that fits, then all the whys around it add up to nothing too. I feels like an empty unchanging reality.

At that point, that’s when asking why hurts so much. That’s when I have to stop asking.  I’m usually full of questions anyway.  I love to ask why.  Yet, I’ve learned there are times to let the why’s go. I get to leave them unanswered and stop.  Just stop asking. 

It’s not because there isn’t beauty in asking questions, there is.  But when I ask why did he die?  It will never have an answer that makes sense, like when I ask why I am tired.  That answer to the latter is easy. It’s because I stayed up too late talking with my son who finally wanted to share stories with me.  I’d never trade sleep for that time with him, so I’m happy I feel tired. 

Why did Grant die?  Because he went paragliding and crashed.  That’s what happened.  It seems to answer the why.  But it doesn’t.  Because all the whys that come from he went paragliding and crashed and died… those whys are so hard. And yet, they relentlessly swirl in my mind and my heart.

And it hurts because the follow on why questions don’t have an easy logical question right now.
Why don’t my boys have a dad that plays with them anymore?
Why am I alone? 
Why did I think I’d be with my love all my life and now I’m not?
Why am I a single mother?
Why do I have 4 boys who need me and their dad, but he’s not here and it’s just me?
Why won’t my grandchildren ever know their grandpa and hear his stories and play with him like he used to play with their dad? 

Why won’t he be there for any of it? 
Why did I plan for something different and now, it’s gone?

Why didn’t I just tell him to stay? 
Why didn’t I say, uh… you want to take up paragliding?!  Nope.  No way in hell…

Why didn’t I think that night wouldn’t be different from any other night? 
Why… why… why…

I could go on… and it’s no use.  There are no simple answers to any of these questions. The more I ask them, the more I feel myself dying instead of living.  So I don’t ask myself why like that anymore.  I used to.  I did for so long and those are not my why’s to answer. 

I’ve changed my why questions now, and in that I’m finding a new life.  A life that I can create. A life I get to navigate the way I want to. Most importantly I receive a heart filled with beautiful answers to new whys that bring peace. 

Why is my baby’s smile so sweet?  He’s full of love.  How can I be more like him?  Keep loving him. 
Why is my blonde boy so beautiful?  He’s full of love.  How can I be more like him?  Keep loving him.
Why is Riley so wonderful and sweet and creative?  He’s full of love.  How can I be more like him?  Keep loving him.
Why is my oldest so responsible and loving and feels so deep?  He’s full of love.  How can I be more like him?  Keep loving him.

Ahhhh I start to see it. There’s something in the whys of our life’s reality. It’s all around me to see. That starts to change my heart, open my eyes, and help me remember how to be happy again.  There is an answer to the whys. It’s not always my job to find it. My job is to stop asking the whys that hurt and start asking the whys that heal.