Farther Along

 I have come to dread the innocuous question, "How are you doing?"  And I get asked that alot lately; to me it is a reminder that I am living every parent's nightmare.  My daughter, Natasha, died of sepsis on Friday afternoon, and sometimes, despite my efforts not to do so, I blurt out, "I'm burying my daughter tomorrow."

This is my third, adult funeral of a close family member.  Even after the death of my father, I have never felt so intense a pain.  On the morning of his funeral, I heard these words and, for the first time since getting the news of his accident, I broke down:

When death has come and taken our loved ones
It leaves our home so lonely and drear
Then do we wonder why others prosper
Living so wicked year after year

Farther along we'll know all about it
Farther along we'll understand why
Cheer up my brother, live in the sunshine
We'll understand it all, by and by 

I am getting ready to go to the funeral home for visitation.  I am preoccupied with pulling together an outfit from my meager suitcase as my grand daughter plays  She has started to process her own loss with a carefree joy that tells me, from her point of view, death means nothing.