Dear Control Room Operator of the Universe...

Warning: I'm pissed. Not drunk pissed. Angry pissed. I WANT to be positive and inspiring right now, but I can't. Not today. Tomorrow, but not today. I debated whether or not I should post these thoughts and feelings and then I recalled that the purposes of this blog is to share my journey with you - it's been about amazing experiences and people, but it's also about coping with Ryan's death. I suppose this is another step in that journey, so here it goes. My intent is not to offend anyone. I'm guessing that I'm not the only one who has experienced these thoughts.

This is a letter to the man in the control room - the person who is controlling the universe right now. I'm quite unsatisfied with his work performance.

Dear Control Room Operator of the Universe,

Everyone is allowed to make mistakes. You made a huge one when you took our friend Ryan last year. Not even Ryan's Minister could make sense of your actions. Why would you choose to take such a vibrant young man with such a bright future ahead of him? But for some unknown reason you chose him. And we did everything that you could ask of us. We banded together. We sorrowfully sang, "Jesus Loves Me." We remembered. We celebrated Ryan's life. We continue to celebrate his life. We use his life to inspire our own. But you know what? You made a mistake.

Control Room Operator of the Universe, you've had a very bad week. You've made some terrible, irreversible mistakes. You've struck a family with a very difficult diagnosis  - a family that has already endured tragedy. You chose the wrong family. This person has the BEST posse and we will join forces to help him fight this battle. Fine. You want to see how strong this family can be? We will show you. But you made a mistake.

And then you went and really screwed up. How could you sit back and watch a drunk driver take a fabulous, charismatic husband and father away from his young family? A family that represents everything that is good in this world. What were you thinking? How are we supposed to make sense of that? You made a huge mistake.

As I'm watching the people I love and care about endure this horrific pain, I ask that you please stop making these mistakes. They have to be mistakes because I can't imagine that any decent control room operator of the universe would knowingly instill this unbelievable sadness on some of the best people you have.

Buck up.

Sincerely,
Kirstie.