I gave this a full 24 hours to keep from all capping this post and shaking my fist at the sky.
A couple of Mormons came to my door, yesterday. They were looking for someone else's house. But they told me why.
Some friends of mine are in the hospital with head injuries. I'd appreciate your prayers for them. They were in a car accident. Their 8 year old daughter, a playmate of Progeny's, died in the wreck.
Read that again.
Eight. Years. Old.
She will never have a first date. Go to Prom. Never get married. Never have babies of her own.
I have walked this child home from the Bus Stop. I have seen her, with my daughter, playing happily. I remember her in a school dance recital. She was very stiff, like she was uncomfortable dancing or maybe being up on stage. She was a very bright child. Full of promise. Always with a hug for Progeny.
Her name is Ruby.
I don't know the details. I don't care. I am a man of faith but that faith is very, very weak. I am more sinner than saint and right now I am mad at God.
I see the Hand of God in how I was informed, and in circumstances that have happened since. I know God exists. I'm trying, Oh GOD WHY!!!!!!!!
AND DON'T YOU GIVE ME THAT WHERE WERE YOU CRAP EITHER! I WANT TO KNOW WHY! EIGHT YEARS OLD! A GREAT KID! WHY!
I will never understand. Ever. Why does a man like Heroditus Huxley's Male Genetic Donor live out his full days, free to roam, while an innocent eight year old dies before she gets a chance to live?