Luke Reid...

Today was Luke Reid's funeral. He was 24. He died in a car accident on Easter Sunday with another friend.
My mother told me about it this morning , wondering if it was the same Luke we knew long ago. And yes, turned out it was.
The situation was doubly sad, because Luke's mother, Carla, a good friend of mine, had died from cervical cancer in 2003. She was 43.
Carla was already divorced and remarried by this time, and living out in the midwest with her new husband. They were actively involved in their church, and she was talking about doing a clown ministry with her husband. That was July of 2003. By the end of August, she was gone. I found out the day we moved to Maine, about a 1/2 hr after I arrived. It was the first phone call I received in our new home.
I'm glad she wasn't here for this, even though I still miss her. It's bad enough for Steven. A parent shouldn't have to outlive their child. But death is never easy, no matter what time in your life it comes.
As I sat here today thinking about the past, I was surprised at how many memories I had with their family. I hadn't seen Luke since probably 1992. He would have been 9. We all attended the same church back then. His father was a sunday school teacher and my husband the sunday school superintendant. I can still remember seeing Luke, Steven and my husband talking after classes many Sundays . Steven eventually took my husband's place.
Luke was always a cheerful little fellow, who liked being with his parents. They were always so proud of him. Whenever they went anywhere, they almost always went together. I remember Cigi, their german shephard, and their farmhouse they were fixing up. They were making plans for the future, hoping eventually to open their home to children in need.
Steven and Carla held a 40th birthday party for my husband. That was so thoughtful of them, and it turned out great, with lots of friends attending. I'm glad I have pictures of the party and the cake they made. I even saved the birthday cards.
What strikes me most is the fact that 15 or 20 years ago, sitting in church with their family sitting behind us or in front of us most Sundays, we would never have guessed in a million years what events would eventually transpire. Not in a million years.
Some people want to know the future. I know I used to. Of course, I only wanted to know the good stuff. But you know what? Surprise me. I think I like it better that way.