A dear friend's husband died suddenly last week. He was coming home from work to celebrate their twin daughters' birthday--and he had a heart attack. He was only 45.

And I just don't understand it.

My friend has six children. The oldest is 20. The youngest is one.

I am not railling at the unfairness of life. I've lived long enough to know life is unfair. God and I have had the "I don't understand" conversation more than once. Many, many times.

I call my friend--her name is Roxanne and her husband always called her Rocky--and check on her. She's doing okay even as she wonders how she does this for the rest of her life. The nights are the worst because she and her husband liked to cuddle together at night.

I know how much my heart is hurting for Roxanne. I can only begin to imagine how much her heart aches.

I want to somehow make things better for her. And I know I can't.

So, I'll just stick close by her. I'll just walk alongside her. Cry with her. Try to think of the right thing to say. Say nothing when I can't.