Friday afternoon, I noticed a terrible post on a Facebook friend’s timeline. It just said that her husband had been killed in New Orleans. She and her family, which includes a set of identical triplet girls, is from Atlanta, but I remembered she had messaged me a couple of months ago that she and her husband were coming to New Orleans for the Ironman triathlon.
I did a quick search of the local newspaper’s website and found an article that had to be about him, and sadly it was. He was killed while doing a training ride for the race (with his brother-in-law who was critically injured.)
Such a senseless tragedy, and the triplet world (among others) rallied around Kim and her family. I decided to go to the start of the race Sunday morning to be there for her. It was a gorgeous morning, more beautiful than it was forecast to be. I was happy to see my friend Robin at the start of the race as well. She has triplets as well, but it was just a coincidence that she had been asked to sing the national anthem before the race. So fitting.
Just before the race, Kim was asked to say a few words about her husband and the triathlete community that he was a part of. I felt a little shy to be there, so it’s good that another triplet mom who had driven in from Mississippi spotted me and brought me over to give Kim a big hug. Even though we’d never met in person, I’ve known her as long as I’ve had triplets (her girls are 7) and it was not a “nice to meet you” hug, but a “nice to see you” one.