Why?

This has been a trying time. I’m trying to put things into perspective, but damned if I can find it sometimes. Perspective seems to elude me in an almost-premeditated way. Once I think I have it, something changes.

And there it goes. Out the window. Down the street. Wafted aloft by a gentle hurricane.

Daddy’s gone, and I still don’t have the peace about it that I want. I’ve said I did, but I don’t.

To date, no one knows why his liver failed. They just know it did. And I have no complaints about his medical treatment, once he was so sick that the big guns got called in.

I just wonder how things might be different if the big guns had been involved earlier.

It’s a question I’ve told Mama not to worry about or dwell on. She and Daddy did the best they could.

Still, the question bounces around in my head so much that it keeps me from sleeping.

Somehow, a car wreck would have been easier. At least I would know why.

Well, maybe not the why, but at least the how.

“Why” still eludes me.

My perspective is unalterably skewed. I loved him, he’s gone and I’ll never understand why.

Of all the questions I’d like answered, that’s chief: why?