another walk

Confucius say a journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.

Last weekend Maureen and I participated in the March of Dimes' March for Babies. The walk, which was about 3,494 miles shorter than my last walk for a cause, was an emotional event for me. As I walked, mostly behind the rest of our friends and family who joined us, I watched as thousands of people walked through Manhattan to raise money to help save the lives of babies. I also watched my daughter's lovely face, on the backs of our team t-shirts, and had to admit to myself that it was too late for her. I could walk for thousands of miles, and it would not change the fact that I will never hold her again. I had to admit that I am powerless over the finality of death.

I would've been a good father to Lily. Within seconds she had me wrapped around her finger, and the world in the palm of her hand. I would've worked three jobs to give her the opportunities she deserved. But the opportunity to help Lily become the great woman she was to become was stolen from me by forces unknown. If there is a God, and this is all part of his/her plan, I guess I don't understand the benefit of taking the life of an innocent child. There are no lessons to be learned, no "reason" in the cliche "everything happens for a reason." The lessons and reason came from her life, not her tragic death. The changing for the better that happened inside me happened when I held her for the first time. The only change that has happened inside of me after her death is a constant sadness, feeling of loss, and the occasional flashback that sends my body into a cold sweat.

The sadness that I feel is only partly for me. A great deal of the sadness I feel is for Lily. She was so innocent, so lovely, and so alive. Maureen and I were prepared to give her the world, and she was robbed of everything. Her first word, steps, day at school, sleepover, kiss, beer, and all the other firsts that we all remember so well. What lesson could possibly be learned from that?

The walk was my first step toward accepting our loss. It gave us something positive to do, in our daughter's honor. We raised money, walked 6 miles in the rain, and more importantly, we wore our shirts with pride. Our daughter's life changed us for the better. This was the first step toward the exit to the hell we've been in since her death.