In 1990 my two year old son died from encephalitis. We had taken him out trick or treating the night before and he was bitten by a mosquito. The next morning, when we went to wake him up, he was dead. It ultimately caused my wife and I to divorce and it took me many years to get over. I had no one to blame. All I could do was shake my fist at the sky, which I did for many years. And I still do. Just not as much or with the same verocity and anger I had.
I put all the photos away but keep one on my desk, that I can see right now. And I can now look at it and think of the good memories with him without cursing god and wonder why 'this piece of ' or 'that piece of ' is alive, and my son is dead.
I could run you through a whole range of head trips. So before you go judging me, remember that bad things happen and people get burned in the 'lottery of life'. I don't need to be schooled by some halfwit about the pain of losing a child. The most bizarre odds that god can lay on a person came to my doorstep. What do I do ? Go on some crazy anti-insect crusade ?
God took my child. He takes everyone. When it's up, it's up.
If you think I'm poo-pooing away deaths from accidents you're wrong. I am saying their solution to drunk driving has been less than just or reasonable and that there is a lot of hysteria about it.
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Couldn't happen to a nicer Thug!
