God and I just had another one of our classic discussions. Me crying and raging, him saying nothing at all. He plays dirty, that God. He knows deafening silence just makes it worse, but he also knows it'll eventually make me give up, too tired to fight.
All I'm asking for is a simple answer to a simple question: why? Under the circumstances I really don't think it's too much to ask, quite frankly. I'm not asking for him to turn back time (I already did - he won't) and I'm not asking for a Lazarus-style miracle (I would, but I know that ain't gonna happen either). All I'm asking is why.
It seems supremely unfair that My Beloved and I should have to discuss things like whether or not we'll include our baby in the "2005 Babies" insert that comes out in our local paper in January. If Thomas were alive there'd be nothing to discuss. We'd do it. End of story.
But he's dead, so the decision becomes more complex.
One of us feels that Thomas is "ours" and that we don't need to share him with the world at large - a world that will never know him the way we did and can't possibly know what he meant to us. The other one feels that he deserves to be recognized, and that putting his picture in the paper is another way to somehow connect with him and to prove that he was real and loved since there's so little we can do now that he's gone.
This is not a discussion for a gloomy Wednesday morning. This is not a discussion for any day - gloomy, bright or otherwise. This is a conversation reserved especially for two people trapped in an endless hell of sorrow who keep struggling to be normal but find roadblocks like "2005 Babies" inserts thrown across their path at every turn.
And so I repeat, WHY??