A tiny casket.
Perhaps more than any of my other siblings, Laura Beth’s short life and early death changed mine.
The death of a little one changes things. It always changes things.
It’s a giant slap in the face, wakening those near that things are not as they should be.
When I slow down long enough, I begin to feel the undercurrent of real sadness. It’s there. It’s always there.
Sweet Laura Beth. I love you.
I miss you.
Unanswered questions. Gaps. Unfulfilled longings. Dissipated relationships.
And sometimes the Psalm just ends.