With the use of medication, my daughter passed her dead miscarried baby into the toilet last night. She was inconsolable. She wanted to see it. She keened, "my baby, oh god, my baby."
I woke her every hour to check her bleeding.
There are no words to adequately describe that experience.
Peter, my best friends' husband, just had emergency surgery for a brain tumor. They live in Austin. The tumor has tentacles they couldn't reach. That is very, very bad. Peter is the gentlest, kindest, most considerate man I know. I could list many people that deserve to have inoperable brain cancer. Why Peter? Why is John dead and my mother alive? Why does my brother suffer from unrelenting pain and my mother get relief from her narcotics? Why did my daughter lose her baby whilst unwed 15 year olds procreate like mad?
I must go see my mother. I must stay with my daughter. I must go to my friends. I must not be angry with my husband for going hunting this weekend. I must stop staring into space. I must take the dog on a walk and clean up the kitchen and finish the laundry and decorate the house and wrap the presents.
I must not start crying. I'll not be able to stop.