Why?

I'm at a loss to know what to write today, but I feel that I need to write something. To try and get my head around what has happened. To understand. To accept.

We found out yesterday that the lady who has been working for us in India, the wonderful person who has looked after Lily and allowed me to write in the mornings, lost her five year old son. It was all very sudden: he was healthy, and then he was gone. It's no surprise that I didn't sleep last night. My sleep patterns are so finely tuned to my emotional wellbeing and if something upsets or disturbs me, or even if I'm excited about something, I feel it ten-fold in the quiet of night rather than my body giving itself the rest it needs.

I feel truly devastated for Deepa's loss. And that suddenly everything has changed: the sound of her chappals padding towards our door each morning, the tapping, her quiet, unassuming, gentle manner and her complete and utter devotion to her family. Some things are impossible to understand; the more you try, the more confused they become.

But questions swim around my mind like goldfish with their large, unblinking, uncomprehending eyes. But perhaps they know, perhaps they know, just like my questions, that they're never going to get out.