Too small was the doctor’s measured response as we stared at the scans. Too small.
A spec in a sea of rendered black, the little one was there, but not for long, for this one was not strong. No trumpets blew, no drums were beat, for the end was neither bitter nor sweet.
The skies clouded and the heavens sighed. Wetness trickled down lines etched in checks from torments past when pain so vast had sunk the soul so low.
This, on the same day the company said they can no longer afford me after 10 years. Our little one wasn’t alone in not growing.
Though sadness visits, despair dares not to dwell. For while our losses are great, nothing is gained by cursing fate.
In a world of change, there is not happiness without sorrow, life without death, or gain without pain.
Despair would be selfish and unfair to those whose losses are greater. For we have each other and with that a love forged in fires that test the souls in ways that Disneyland dates could never know.
We are lucky. For the one who was strong and stayed where so may had fled. For the sweetest little girl who now scans unfathomable adult conversations for words remotely resembling “bye bye” to give reason and excuse to wildly wave ten tiny fingers.
I told my wife tonight that I love her. But not by words. Instead, I brought her home and laid her down, cooked her food, and held her hand. I washed the crimson from her clothes.
No trumpets blew, no drums were beat. I’ll start look tomorrow for a new job, but tonight an almost eleven-month-old daughter was hugged and thanks were said for a happy life. I can ask for no more.
