On Dec 21, 1989, I lost one of my best friends in a car accident. She was an amazing young lady, had a young baby & had just remarried after an ugly abuse-filled first marriage she was forced into by her family (yes, that still happens in rural areas). Her car and another one hydroplaned on a wet road... The other driver lived - she didn't.

Over the years, I've kept track of her son & "talked" with him a few times via Facebook. He always wanted to hear about his mamma because he never got to know her...

I checked in with him just a couple of weeks ago, knowing that the anniversary of Beryl's death was rough on him.

And last night, he was on the news. Killed in a car wreck a few days earlier. At first I didn't recognize him because he always went by his middle name and the news used his first name. And then it hit me...

I remember when his momma was pregnant. She was so looking forward to finding out who was in her belly.... If it was a girl, her name would be Autumn Jorah (Jorah is Hebrew for rain & she LOVED to walk in the rain)... If it was a boy, she'd picked the name Carl Silas.

Neither of them got to live long enough.