This past weekend has been awful. The mother of our school principal passed away. Although not entirely unexpected, as she had been battling cancer for several months, the doctors had offered her seven daughters two weeks more. Forty-eight hours later they found themselves around her gravesite. In addition, one of our teachers received word his father had experienced a heart attack and passed away that morning. His dad had only reached the ripe young age of 47.
Both are a piercing reminder of the fragility of life. Living here, a weird conundrum exists, of life valued like never before – needing family and friends close. Like, physically close. Thirty minutes is too much. Yet, the lack of safety and security in the country drives this need, as the reality of gangs, murders and muggings are very real. For some, life means nothing.
I pray for those who have passed, and the families who are grieving their loss. May they find some sense of peace amidst such horrendous circumstances.