Going Dark

Slept in this morning. Finally turned on my phone at 11. 5 voicemails registered. 3 from my dad, 1 from my sister, 1 from my brother Mike.
Shit. What happened? Something terrible has happened.
Listened to the first sentence of my brother's voicemail: "Well, Liz.. I guess you've heard by now what happened to Ted..." end voicemail. Call my dad. My mom answers. She tells me what happened. Ted's plane crashed early this morning somewhere in west Texas.
He was the pilot for a medical evacuation plane. 2 paramedics, a patient, her husband. No survivors.
Ted's gone. My uncle Ted. My dad's best friend. My Godfather. My Nikon D300 buddy. My 2nd dad. I've been in shock since. Sometimes I'll realize it's true. I just keep thinking that he really wasn't on the plane. That he's just been radio silent since midnight Saturday night. It's hard. I don't want to deal with this. I want him to be back. I want him to give me a back rub after we've had a huge crawfish boil. I want him to be there with my dad. And Nuria. In Roatan. In Louisiana. In Beaumont.
The combination of allergy meds and the news of this devastating loss to our family just makes me feel like a robot.

I don't see you crying, robot..