Unintended Consequence

Scrolling through Facebook, a former colleague on a trip to New York posted checkins along the typical tourist route in Manhattan. I smiled as she checked into a  few familiar places, tracing my own familiarity up and down the length of the city.

Then I saw an address I recognized.

I didn’t know at first. I’ve never been there. But I know what happened there.

Faigy.

The feeling in my stomach tightens, as I remember who was lost.

Deb.

Faigy.

All the mothers who have lost their living children.

The velt doesn’t have this right. They never have. And I struggle more and more with what exactly can be done to fix it.

Because I don’t think there is anything that can be done.

Into the dark abyss my mind goes.

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