Sweet William ...

I ended up going back twice to the cemetary looking for William.

I wandered the rows, reading headstones and thinking about these people who once walked the streets of Halifax and breathed the air I am breathing now.

I was reminded not only of my own mortality but also of the fact that I am vibrantly alive at this moment and that's all any of us has.  This moment.

But to die before you've even had a chance to live is heartbreaking...

Rock a bye baby on the tree top,

When the wind blows the cradle will rock,
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,

And down will come baby, cradle and all.

Transcending all boundaries until we meet again.

And in the middle of a row toward the back of the cemetary, dwarfed by stately monuments I found William ...

William was 6 years old when he died of Small Pox in 1935.

I know that life is not about fairness. 

But, it's still not fair.   I'm sorry William that you did not have more moments.