In the mail today, after I thought no more cards would come, I received three. One from a cousin of B's, who had sent one previously, just saying they were thinking of us. One from the president of A's school PTA. one from my brother's wife, sharing a nice memory of W. I am overwhelmed by the kindness of our friends and family.
God, I thank you for all the love you have sent our way. But why, God, does this love not help me feel better? Why do I have a hard time accepting it? Why do I feel as though I am a nothingness wrapped in flesh? Why did W die? Why didn't we get a chance to prevent it?