Today is a sense of tremendous joy and tremendous anger for me.
Nine years ago I was blessed by the Goddess and the strength of my wife to welcome my third son into this crazy world we live in. There was, as both of my other sons, issues with his birth and the wonderful people in the Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit at Strong Memorial Hospital made sure we had not only the best care we could receive for him but the compassion that is so desperately needed in times when your heart is torn from your chest and you are looking down at your hours’ old son not knowing what would happen next.
For those of you blessed to know my little hyper-mimic, you know that he is active and wonderful and remembers every bad word I shouldn’t say around him and a million other things that make him sweet and lovable and kind and gentle and, most importantly, so very much like his mother. His mother would smile and her golden eyes would light up a room and a laugh that would make the angels themselves weep with joy.
His mother who doesn’t get to see him today.
No, no I am not going to spiral into that hole, but she is indeed gone and every single person in the world who ever knew her is missing her.
What makes me angry isn’t the tragedy of early death, no what makes me mad is that there are so many that are alive that shouldn’t be when she is gone.
Yep, I said that.
Karma, yeah I know.
I still want the bad people dead.
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