Morning After Addendum

When I was about my niece Alyssa's age, my family had a black lab we called "Fritzy." We loved that dog. He was a good boy, and would pull Penelope and me on the sled in the winter, would play with us anytime, and was always good in a pinch. It's a shame I don't remember more. But I do remember taking a nap one day, and Fritz got out of the house and walked down the hill in front of our house, straight down Indiana Ave and got hit by a car.

When I woke up Penny was crying, and mom was trying to explain what happened. I remember wondering what Penny was crying about, thinking and even patting her on the back "It's okay, he'll come back. It's okay."

25 years later I still don't get this death thing.

My training has done well to demolish my perception that everything needs to be fair, or even should be, but all I can think is 'it isn't fair.'

I'm three again.