WARNING: This will probably be hard to read if you have lost a child of any age. And it will probably be uncomfortable if you haven't.
It's hard sometimes.
It's hard when I see a medical helicopter and think about the last ride I took with my son.
It's hard when I hear the name "Avery" and see a happy, healthy child run by.
It's hard when I see glimpses of my son in my other children and wish I could see more of him.
It's hard when I hear about other parents who have lost a child and think about the pain they must feel.
It's hard when I hear about a child with a life-threatening condition and wonder what the outcome will be.
It's hard when I hear about a seriously ill child who got better and wish that could have been us.
It's hard when I see parents treat their children unkindly and wish they weren't such jerks.
It's hard when I treat my children unkindly and wish I wasn't such a jerk.
It's hard when people look down on me for not living up to their expectations, especially when I'm trying hard to do my duty with a broken heart.
It's hard sometimes.
Avery John Notgrass, January 2012
O Lord, the God of my salvation,
I have cried out by day and in the night before You.
Let my prayer come before You;
Incline Your ear to my cry!
For my soul has had enough troubles . . .
Psalm 88:1-3, NASB