For the second time in my lifetime, I've been kissed by a mother mourning the loss of her son. Both times I could barely speak as tears spilled down my cheeks. The sound of a mothers cries as she lays over a casket with her baby boy inside. Her voice echoed in my nightmares for weeks. And now her tears are stained on my skin. I don't understand why people are taken. I don't understand why life is unfair. To see a woman fall to her knees under the pain that is suffocating her, will make you question everything. To hear her scream " No, not my baby!" made my heart drop to my feet. To listen to her sing his favorite childhood lullaby as her voice broke made my blood skip in my veins. But none of this pain was even a fraction of what was gripping her soul. Knowing that once the ceremony was over I would leave. That maybe in a few days or even weeks I would be able to function normally. She wouldn't. Her hardest days were yet to come as awful as that sounds. I lost my friends. They lost their sons. The loss of a child is something no parents should go through. Seeing it with my own two eyes, to watch another human being struggle with the loss of a life they created is a memory singed into my brain and etched on my cheek in the shape of a mothers kiss.