Where does this love come from?

Where does this depth of love come from? How am I so connected to Ani? Why do we experience so much grief? It's seems unheard of in the rest of the animals on earth. I think it really comes from God, why would natural selection give parents the extended grief that comes from losing an offspring? What would it really matter if a calf or a baby bird died? Does it really affect their parents survival? I think that we, in God's image, have a hint of his love, and we continue to remember our lost children until we can see them when we pass on. I only pray that we could more easily draw upon and understand this depth of love for each other, and let it drive us.

I know this

I am much more than I've been, but less than I was.

Enough?

Ani,
If I love you enough, will you shine?
If I love you enough, will you dance?
If I love you enough, will you sing?
If I love you enough, will you fly?
I try every day, and I get a little more from above, but can I love you enough?
If I love you enough, will I earn the way you look into my eyes?

To Nate

Nate,

Your name stirs my heart, both joy and sadness.
Your image in my mind evokes our games, and your casket.
Your voice in my memories reminds me of pure happiness, and pitiful silence.
Your smell brings back tickling, and flowers.
Your eyes draw me in, and beckon me heavenward.
Your soul, your soul, I don’t need to remember, it’s with me.

Prayer for Ani

Oh God,

Instead of a stiff body, let it be flexible and right feeling.
Instead of a pukey tummy, let there be good tasting food and a full feeling.
Instead of cold toesies, let her warm them by dancing.
Instead of clenched fists, let her hold our hands.
Instead of a wandering eye, let her point out colors in the sunset.

Hollow

I am hollow, my grief echoes inside of me. Instead of diminishing, it grows louder, until I answer it, then it fades to an ache.

I am hollow, my love for a son rattles around, seeking an expressive avenue, until I send it heavenward, but it brings little physical comfort.

I am hollow, my hopes for a daughter’s future feel cloudy and insubstantial, until I give them up and tell her I love her.

I am hollow, my charge as a protector feels empty, like I have failed, until I hold my wife or make my daughter laugh.

I am hollow, like my heart is separated from me, until I am reminded of a eternity with my lost loved ones.

I am hollow, please remind me that I am solid.