Another friend has a new grandchild.
It makes my heart so happy to see families grow and prosper. I love the fresh sweetness of newborn wrinkles and chubby fists.
If I’m honest I have to admit that for every smile that spreads wide across my face in response to posted pictures, there is a tear that slips down from the corner of my eye.
I wish I could feel unadulterated joy like I used to.
But I can’t.
It is impossible for there to be any progeny bearing his smile, his laughter, his brown eyes and overgrown eyebrows. The rhythm that filled his head and tapped, tapped, tapped down the bannister is buried underground.
And that is hard to bear.
Losing a child is not a single event.
It happens over and over and over.
