It's all wrong. None of us should be here reading this, this blog shouldn't exist. I never ever should have gotten the wonderful experience of getting to know the talented photographers over at Grow, or had the chance to hear Sheye Rosemeyer's beautiful Australian accent over the phone while we talked about a book that would be a tribute to her daughter. I shouldn't have the opportunity to work on this project, and no one should ever need to find comfort or joy from the book that will result.
The human spirit just isn't designed to process something so terrible as losing a child. No matter how it happens, no matter how sudden or how drawn-out, how rich, how poor, how many or how few were left behind. We're never ready, it is never okay. Children should never die.
And yet, it happens. I can't get my head around that fact -- it sends my system into a panic if I think about it -- but it does. It happens. It's wrong, but through some terrible mistake these incredible little creatures that we make are mortal. Fragile, even. So, as much as we shouldn't be here writing a blog about a book about a girl named Ava, my God... here we are.
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