The 2nd anniversary is quickly approaching of the murder/suicide of two dear friends. They were actually my long time (30+yrs) and best friends son (and only child) and daughter in law. In May '14 I had heart surgery that frankly in some ways didn't go so well. I took a month to recover (should have taken longer) when I got back to helping my best friend pack for her and her moms big move. This was no tiny task, either. Moving is one of the biggest stressers as it is, but the sheer amount of stuff they had made this particular move even more massive. I used to be a mover, so when I say it was massive it was. After taking the month off to recover I got back to helping my friend pack, get rid of things, organize, and all that goes along with moving. I usually did this 3 weekends a month. I would go down on Fri night, and would go back home on Sunday evenings. I did this for several months, even before my heart surgery. Now it was crunch time as far as packing was concerned. The massive move was scheduled for Nov 12th (it ended up taking 2 full days to move). I had gone down, like so many other times, on Fri night, and we got busy right away. Come Sat we were figuring out what needed to be done, and what we were gonna take care of that day when little did we know the events that would change both of our lives began unfolding. My friends son had texted her a strange message, and instantly she and I were both concerned. We were going to go to his house (45min away) to see what was up, but before we could make it out the door her son had calmed the flames of concern. Early the next morning, Sunday, all hell broke loose. My friend had received a call from the SWAT team in her sons city. They were asking all sorts of questions about the layout of her sons house upon multiple other questions, but told her to stay put. They told her they'd call her. Of course neither my friend nor I were content with just sitting there waiting, so I suggested to my friend that maybe we could find the absolute closest restaurant near her sons house, and wait there (since it was 45min away) in case they needed my friend. My friend thought that was a great idea, so my friend, myself, and her mom all packed up and headed out. We were about half way there when my friends brother, also my friend, called and told her to pull over. We instantly knew the news was bad. We found an open parking lot, and pulled in and turned off the car. My friend had her phone on speaker when my friends brother had told her that two bodies had been found in her sons home. (This was found out by a local news station that was following the story.) My friend and I instantly began sobbing hysterically and uncontrollaby. It all seemed so surreal all while knowing it was all too real. Neither one of us every expected anything like this! After several minutes (not sure exactly how long) we could see my friend wasn't going to be needed, and she realized she had forgotten the detectives number at her place, so we headed back. I had to drive, and have no idea how I managed given tears were still strolling down my face. We made it back safely, though. Then all the real work began. Instead of staying just the weekend as I normally did I ended up staying for 3wks to help with anything and everything I could. There was a TON of things to take care of. Not only did we have to take care of the move, and finish cleaning up the townhouse they moved out of and taking care of closing details on the sale of it, but we also needed to tend to her sons home on top of that. SWAT had blown out every door leading inside to the place, and an abnormally extreme and early cold snap struck. It was a mess, and I can't even begin to share all the details that had to be addressed no matter how each of us were doing. Exactly two weeks to the day after the tragedy another mutual friend of ours who was going to give the eulogy at my friends sons funeral ended up passing away after she went to bed that Sat night. She was only 40yrs, and left behind her husband and 3 young children (13, 6 and 2). She passed away from a heart attack. We figured, that at least in part, that it was brought on by the grief she experienced from the tragedy itself. I still cry even as I'm writing this here especially knowing no one should ever have to experience such things. Knowing that it never has to come to all this, and yet we were powerless to stop it. It's been two years, and it still feels as fresh as it just having happened. Maybe someday it'll be easier (still not easy), but for now the desperate grieving continues.