Breathing in the Abyss
In a perfect world, children would not die. But alas, this is not a perfect world. And that is why we are mourning for Evan Kamida, who would have turned 8 tomorrow, but whose funeral is today.
When you lose your child … I don’t know how you keep breathing. How you don’t hate your own treacherous body for demanding food and water and sleep as if nothing has changed, as if the entire universe hasn’t somehow shifted to a cosmically wrong place. But this is exactly what I wish for my friend Vicki. To keep breathing. To put one foot in front of the other and get through this minute, and then the next one, and then the one after that. If not for herself, than for Evan, who loved swinging with his mom and playing bongo drums with his dad, who looked to his sister for love and protection.
Just breathe.
That’s so sad, about Evan. I read all the links to Vicki’s stories about him. What a lovely writer she is, and a dedicated mom. I can’t imagine how she and her family must be suffering right now. Thanks for blogging about this.
I am helping a mother (and father) take care of their multiply-disabled daughter right now, and I have a only a sliver of understanding of the love that is between the parents and their child. I am so sorry to hear for your friend’s loss and will put in some major reflection time on her behalf.