Three days after my divorce finalized, I drove to a cemetery to spend time. There was something in my soul that needed to connect with the tangible reality of death. My eyes drank in the brokenness and sorrow around me. Tombstones stood erect in reverence of what had been. As I read each one, I was confronted with loss. One year old children were buried in the ground. Their voices stilled. I paused at the grave of a 4 year old boy and broke down and cried as I thought about the tragedy. I noted the many husbands and wives departed from one another. Families torn apart. Even the trees had emptied their leaves which covered the ground beneath me and echoed loudly another death beneath my feet. For as far as I could see, there was loss. Here in death was a reflection of what I was experiencing in life… premature endings.