The most unnatural thing is

the death of a child ... when

all things upright turn upside down.

Was it ever intended

that parents bury a child?

We live our lives in three tenses:

the past, present ... future,

when a child dies, so does the last.

We live in a grief-stricken present,

and an unhealthy encumbrance with past.

when a child dies.

Its most difficult challenge,

to comprehend the unfathomable,

never again to experience all that brought you joy:

a smile, a voice, that look, the pleasure ...

of life.

A father cries but cannot stop.

nothing can medicate his pain ...

though he tries with pills and alcohol.

Living with a child's loss

is like violently tearing a leg from its socket

and then trying to walk again ...

as if there were still two.

Crutches become necessary although

not upon which to become unhealthily dependant,

but to restore a semblance of wholeness,

which can never be achieved.

What happens between the now of death

and eight years ago?

two fathers sit side by side.

one father looks back,

the other looks around.

The death of a child is ...

when "because" no longer

answers "why" ...

when the most sage and powerful become

indistinguishable from the most simple and powerless

man.

A child's death is as blind as justice is supposed to be.