Our friends' plane fell from the sky last night...

I've tried this morning as I have learned of a tragedy that happened last night to mow my lawn, fold my laundry, keep moving so my mind can try to absorb this shock but it just keeps bouncing off my brain. So I will write. Perhaps that will open the receptors and allow my heart to grieve.

My friend Lansing, his son Dallin and 6 of their medical staff was killed in a plane crash last night near Moab, Utah. They had just refueled, took off and less than two miles later went down. There is nothing left of the plane. Just a few bits of the wing and tail. It burned for four hours. My friends were on that plane. My friends are dead. Where do I take this grief? As I know that it is but a smidgeon of what my friend Lynnanne is feeling. She is the surviving wife and mother, left to deal with her own grief and comfort the surviving 3 children and her daughter-in-law. Dallin was married last year and his wife is newly pregnant. And now she is a widow even before she holds that baby. And no one can hold and kiss any of these people one last time before they are buried. There are no bodies left.

There were not any finer men than Lansing and Dallin. This spring my son Aaron was at a slumber party and got broadsided by a big exercise ball that sent him crashing into a coffee table. The host of the party called Lansing, who is our town's dermatologist, and he came right over to see if the gash needed stitches. It did. So Lansing bundled me and Aaron in his car and drove to his office at 11:30 PM and administered kindness and medical care to my son...and me. He caught as I keeled over and was ready to faint when the stitching started. He was happy to help us and I could feel that. There are not many people that would be as kind. And Dallin, there was a boy that was as fine as they come. So Lansing and Dallin leave together to the next phase of life and if any two people deserve the highest reward that comes with living a good and generous life, it is them. It is us left behind to mourn our losses that don't know how we will get through the days without them.

We are a small town in Cedar City. We have less than 30,000 people in our community. And we have lost 8 of our finest. That is a big hole in so many hearts.

As I have been learning so clearly this year, every minute must be savored, there may be no tomorrow to tell people we love them and appreciate them. Each day is a gift that we must treasure and hold close to our hearts. Actively show those you love just how much they mean to you.