When a child dies

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 20, 2018

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Submitted: July 20, 2018

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When a child dies 

Wiping away tears is wasted effort,  

Life isn’t supposed to be shorter than the length of her casket” 

Every happy memory is washed away by waves of remembrance. 
There is a child in that box with a sutured chest 
and carefully placed items she would want to take to a heaven. 
If there is one. 
Because you can question faith when a child dies. 

 

The uninterrupted hum of voices that funnel through a crowded funeral home is deafening. 

Empty is your hand after you realize you cannot hold her laughter anymore 
or run your fingers in between hers. 

Pain is temporary until it refuses to go away 
and pain doesn’t go away when a child dies. 

 

Death has a smell; it is not rotting flesh. 

It is 

funeral home carpet cleaner 
and perfumed floral arrangements that stand in shapes of hearts 
and the holy cross. 

It is 

too much cologne  
and lingering mint on the breath of family and close friends. 

It is a twist in your stomach 
that grips you tighter as you move forward in line to say goodbye.  
There is a line to say goodbye. 

A line that wraps around the block like she had her daddy wrapped around her finger. 

A finger that will never bear a ring. 
A body that is reminiscent of a cage, holding her spirit captive. 
A spirit that has been set free... because that is what we are supposed to say when a child dies. 

 

 

B. D. Monroe


© Copyright 2018 Marcy Pine. All rights reserved.

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