This is super-heavy, so let me apologize up front.

I am usually funny & upbeat, but I found out the other day that my sister had a miscarriage. After about a month, month-and-a-half of pregnancy, she lost her child. I don’t want to think about it or imagine what that must feel like. BUT I HAVE TO. I have no choice. She is my sister, my little sister at that, and I have an obligation as a big brother to empathize with her. So as much as I hate to, I have to go to where she is, emotionally and mentally. It’s not a fun place to be.

I love my kids more than anything on earth, and I know she loves her kids. And say what you want about life, but from day ONE that baby was a life. It was a part of her, a living being. One of her kids. My niece or nephew. My Dad’s grandchild. Part of God’s plan. I don’t like it or understand it, but I respect it.

So go home, hug the kids, call up your sister. And say a prayer for mine.

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