Ann (lonestarslp) wrote,

I received a phone call today from a friend of a friend. She had also had a child die, and she lost her brother at an age close to A's. I felt I could talk to her about anything and she would understand. About the weird feeling I got on Sunday when a new acquaintance asked me if I had any children. About how I told her about A, then found an opportunity later to talk about W. About how I don't care if it makes people uncomfortable if I talk about W because I NEED to talk about him. She kindly listened to me and shared her experiences.

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?

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