Sending him off

Unable are the loved to die. For love is immortality. ~Emily Dickinson

Little Colin was buried today. I took Bubba to his wake. They buried him in his Halloween costume and a bucket to hold the candy was in the casket. 

"Mom, his lips looked funny." Bubba said. I thought he'd be afraid to look at the little boy he knew from school.

"Yes, Bubba, he was probably wearing makeup, too. They do that sometimes when people die." I told him.

The sight of a little kid in a casket in church was bad, but not nearly as bad as the sobs his father cried as we went through the line.

Heartbreaking. 

More later...

He asks why

Yesterday was a beautiful fall day. It was crisp, bright and sunny. All the kids leaving the church on Sunday ran out onto the courtyard, between the bushes, and up to the pumpkin patch, to pick the perfect pumpkin.

Today, the kids went to school, and found out one of the boys playing in the pumpkin patch will never carve his jack-o-lantern. He won't get to wear his Halloween costume or go to the Trunk or Treat on Friday.

Today little Colin died when his house caught on fire. The fire department doesn't know why. Only two relatives were with him and they were injured trying to escape. Colin got lost in the smoke and died trying to get out.

And Bubba knew him. He asks why. He feels the pain of death for the very first time as we sit and cry together in silence.

More later...