A friend, granted not a very close friend anymore, lost her baby girl last week. I don’t know what happened and I guess in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter. Her 8 month old is gone, that’s what matters. Gone are the good-night kisses and snuggles that I relish, gone are the smiles and baby giggles, gone is that baby girl. THAT is something I don’t think I will ever understand – why a child has to die. My Dad was old and sick, and I guess his time had come. I am a pretty strong believer that things happen for a reason. My Dad’s passing was probably because it was just his time, he had a hard life, was sick for a long time and held on as long as he could. His wife, his best friend, the rest of his family were all waiting for him to show up on the other side to organize the party. But the loss of this little baby has no justification in my book. I am sure her family is standing strong; her mother is one strong woman. She raised her oldest daughter on her own and came from a tough life herself, I pray her for and for the strength that she has always had – for it to stay with her, not fail her, to grow ever stronger and bigger to support this new weight has will carry for the rest of her life.
My Dad will forever be missed by me. And I have the memories of him to make me laugh eventually, for now they just make me cry. I hope that they were able to gather up memories in the past 8 months with that baby that will last a life-time and will one day, bring them joy. And who knows. My Dad loved babies and babies loved my Dad, maybe he’ll keep an eye on her up there until her parents join her one day.
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