Fleeting

*Be forewarned: This post is a total downer. If you're having a great, happy day, please skip over and stop back again soon. Up shortly (after I finish just a couple more projects) will be fun, new tour posts which will better fit your happy mood.

A baby gone 20-weeks in utero whose mother will never hear its cry. A 59-year-old grandmother of three who will never see the full potential of her grandchildren. It all seems unfair.

I often tell the kids, "Sometimes things aren't fair," when refereeing a fight or handing out discipline met with distaste. That's what we teach our children ... life sometimes isn't fair.

However, sometimes the unfairness has a way of being really unfair, to the point that it becomes difficult to justify or gain perspective on in the greater scheme of things.

There is, after all, a reason for everything, isn't there?

I'm struggling, though, to find some reason.

A reason that a loving, committed couple can't be granted just one baby to love when there are so many less deserving parents to be found.

A reason that a young grandma couldn't be spared in exchange for someone ready and waiting to pass on.

It's all fleeting. A game of trying to take as much of it in within the time restraints we're given. A challenge of finding the joy in cleaning up pooped-in underwear or snot-puking kids when we've been granted the gift of their presence and love. Forgetting, in the not-so-great times, that the laughter and love overshadow the rest of it.

Sadly, in my self-centered, crying-at-the-drop-of-a-hat state, I'd like to pack a bag and go. Go somewhere where no one can find me. Wallow a little bit in the sadness, and not have to say "please don't hit your sister" for the three dozenth time in a day.

In reality, though, I must remember it is all fleeting. Time getting away from me. Time better spent on the positive, less tearful things in life; and hope, that in time, some semblance of understanding can be found in the face of unfairness.