The sun shone on your last morning, 2 hours later snow fell. Maybe this was you, gracing us once more.
You stood as a contrast to our black clothing, your innocence, kindness, against my guilt. I should have called, I could have heard you one last time.
I am overdue for this apology. It has taken me nine days to write this, I'm not sure what was stopping me, but I couldn't possibly utter these words.
We sat in a row, listening to old relatives speak about their past with you, and all I could feel was your cold, thin hand grasping mine, your large blue eyes looking for me with hope, your beautiful voice singing me to sleep: "in der FrΓΌh, wenn Gott will, wirst du wieder erweckt"...
I wish I could convince myself; God decided it was your time to go, as you had told me he would. But I know you suffered and I know that He wouldn't have taken you before I could have said goodbye. Or maybe this was His plan, to make us suffer for you, for once.