It’s odd, going back and looking at old pictures. It feels even weirder when those moments, those memories, are lost. What seems so normal is easy to let go. But when such a thing consumes you, it’s hard to forget that smile, it’s hard to forget their sighing as they do their chores. It hurts seeing so many people with tears, some people you don’t even know. You start to wonder if you can go on, or if things will ever be the same. Yet deep in your heart you know you can never go back into the past.

What if we could go back into the past? What if we could go back and change all our mistakes? Would it make that much of a difference? It’s so quiet now without them, so quiet and lonely. There were so many things left undone that shouldn’t have been. So much happiness to be had that never happened. So many more challenges to face, but now those dreams are gone. How quickly things can change.

I never knew silence was so loud. I can feel it surround me and make me shake. Parents aren’t supposed to bury their children. It’s not right to see your son or daughter lying there in the casket. Such a young face shouldn’t be ended so quickly. Why is it we question ourselves to a point where it kills us? Why do we always fill life with should’ves and could’ves knowing it will only break us down? Why must we always blame someone and punish them? Yet if all these things were resolved then we would be stuck running around like robots.

The pain of losing a child is like a thousand knifes stabbing you repeatedly. Still I can not bring myself to believe they’re truly gone. Life is cruel, life is evil, but even as I think of how miserable life is without them, I still have a pang of happiness. Even though I’ll never see them graduate or have a family of their own I have some happiness. That happiness that I got to spend time with them. At least they lived for sometime. And to me, that makes all the difference.