Now, I am guilty of laying down the stupid and silly. But I want to get serious for a little bit about an experience I had that was both awful and wonderful. Sometimes life gives us those moments to keep us on our toes, I suspect.

Due to a tragedy a few years ago, I attended the memorial service of an amazing young woman. Everybody was deeply shaken and crying. 

But there was one sweet girl in the back, long brown hair, a little heavy, about 13, special-needs, who was inconsolable.  Inconsolable. The young woman who died and this sweetheart of a girl were clearly close.

Until then, I had not spent much time thinking about that word inconsolable, but this poor little girl made me redefine it.

Without a trace of embarrassment or pretense or the slightest hint of any kind of filter, between sobs, she just openly poured out her grief:

"Why, Mommy? Why? Why did this happen?"

Her mother tried as best she could to console her, but, well, she was inconsolable:

"Why did she go? I won't ever see her again, will I?"

Each time she cried out it was like getting punched in the heart by an angel. To hear that much unqualified love was a blessing. To hear how much pain it caused this kind, gentle lamb of a girl was excruciating. 

Part of me couldn't take it. Part of me couldn't stop listening. 

And then came the knockout punch:

"Did I do something wrong, Mommy?"