Figlio Perduto

We all live only to die.
But life is too short to waste a day crumbling with worries about feeling like death.
Today I heard the news of a young boy who has lost his mother. She is gone.
The idea of thinking what that boy is going through makes me feel sick in the core of my stomach, I feel lighter in my head and I feel the shadows of darkness fill the water in my eyes.
How can life be so cruel to those who actually try to be good people, kind people, people who give love as much as they receive it.
On some days like today it all just seems like a sick joke to me. Like we have all been placed here to see how human we can really remain amongst all the withdrawing hands, careless secrets that are passed on through a chain of burning ears, all the people that will choose themselves before you time and again. Sometimes it can be such a lonely road.

I can't help but wonder if this is really the way that things are meant to be. I wish I could hold that boy close and tell him that everything will be alright, but I know right now that is untrue. I can't comfort the loss of the idea of a memory that may fade in time, a touch that you may forget to feel, the voice that you sill struggle to hear the sound of tuck you in at night.

A child's pain is incomparable to our own because they already have to see so much pain and suffering from such a young age. A mother's touch is like a security blanket that hides away all the monsters and keeps the shadows at bay in the lure of the blackness of night. I think of how destroyed I would be if I could not have my mother beside me and I am not a child anymore.

We all live only to die.
I pray that there is some salvation of all the pain, all the struggle that is taken to elevate your mind at this endless game. Today my thoughts are with this boy, every second, every breath. I know that it is the time to mourn and cry, but I suspect that his mother will remain the apple of his eye.