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Wild, there is no sense in falling apart, but nothing about the death of a loved one makes sense. Even those who seek comfort in their religion are taught that G-d can not provide comfort through reason; only through faith. And when a child is taken way too young, it is hard to find comfort there.

I wish your WPM could spend the night with you instead of FHG. He being a family man can best understand your pain. Son #2 needs to let himself grieve. I think school is just too soon for him, and for you. You will be excused. You should be able to postpone any assignments. You should be able to call anyone to whom you owe money and get a postponement.

It is ironic that tonight, 8 Simple Rules returned to the air after the death of John Ritter. It was a moving episode in which the family dealt with the death of their father/husband. It was a sitcom with the funny sucked out of it, and I know that is how you feel your life is. There is no joy.

But over the next couple of days I want you to find joy. Find it in your Son #2. Find it in your friends and family. Find it on-line and wherever else you can get it. Find it in your pets, in the birds outside, in the trailer rats blissfully unaware of life's cruelties. Find it in the sunshine, find it in the rain drops, find it anywhere you can, because it can be found everywhere.

No one should outlive their children. But take comfort that he is no longer in pain, suffering from siezures, wishing he could live a normal life. He is at peace, and will live on in the memories of friends and family. You can find strength in the same places where you can find joy, and you can start with his memory. Celebrate it, rejoice in it. Reflect on his life rather than his death. He never gave up, a lesson learned from his mom. His strength, character, and goodness came from his mom. Now it is his turn to give it back in his passing.

You will definately feel different tomorrow. You may not feel better, but you will feel different. You wish say more than once that you just want things to be like they were before. They can not. They have never been. They can only be what you make of them. You have been learning that lesson all your life, and now it is time to put it to the test.

One step at a time, one day at a time, one sob at a time. You have walked this path before, although not for something as severe, as close to your heart, as heart numbing as this. Life wasn't fair to make your son ill. Life wasn't fair to take him from you. Life is rarely fair.

If you will permit me to pass on some words from my religion that provide comfort to me:

When cherished ties are broken, and the chain of love is shattered, only trust and strength of life can lighten the heaviness of heart. At times, the pain of separation seems more than we can bear, but if we dwell too long on our loss we embitter our hearts and harm ourselves and those about us.

Grief is a great teacher, when it sends us back to serve the living. Even when they are gone, the departed are with us, moving us to live, as in their higher moments, they themselves wished to live. We remember them now; they live in our hearts; they are an everlasting blessing.

Though we can not understand death, we accept life as a gift. Death is a haven to the weary, a relief for the sorely afflicted. There is no pain in death, only the pain of the living as they recall loved ones and fear their own death.

Memory can only tell what we were, in company with those we loved. It can not help us find what we must become. Yet those who are no more echo within our thoughts and words, and are part of what we have become. We do our best hoage to our dead when whe live our lives most fully, even in the shadow of our loss.

May the source of peace send peace and comfort to you, Wild. You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers.

Fuskie
Saying Kaddish in your name...
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