Sometimes

Sometimes I feel guilty that
The mother who had only to look at you
To know you were getting a cold could not save you.
Sometimes I feel guilty that of all those I gave
witnessed CPR to, who continued to live, or went on
to expert ICU care, that of all those people, you
have been the only one I could not spare.
Sometimes I can't understand how you could have been so full of life, played soccer and eaten pie, only to cease to inhabit your beautiful suit the following day.
All the time, I cannot understand how the Mom who knew you so well could not feel our time drawing to a close.
Sometimes I wonder that if the autopsy showed no cause of death, if you are not dead at all. You watched Stargate, learned of ascension and just as the character Daniel did, went on to live as a being of light, before you return again.
Sometimes I think I should get you snowboots because yours are now long since outgrown.
Sometimes the pain is so great that it makes it hard for me to do what I must for your siblings, but I promise you, I shall.