I received some bad news last week. My great nephew, three months and one day old, was rushed to the hospital with breathing problems.

He was born with an abnormal heart - he had to have heart surgery right after he was born and would have needed another when he was six months old. The artificial valve they put in his heart would have been outgrown by then.

From what I understand, he also had breathing problems and most likely some other problems that I don't know about. Even so, he was outwardly a normal, healthy and happy baby boy. The next morning I got a call from my parents telling me that he had passed away.

The announcement came as a total shock to me, considering that I had just seen him a few days before.

When an older person grows ill and passes, it surprises us; but I just didn't expect an infant to die. It is hard to believe that a little baby could die, isn't it? So much potential, so much love, all gone in an instant.

None of us really have a promise of tomorrow, but I know I, for one, often take life for granted. If I didn't assume I was going to live until tomorrow, why would I set the alarm clock each night?

He was born in Charlottesville, Va. at the University of Virginia Medical Center - the local doctors realized there might be complications with his birth early on. I saw him for the first time, other than photographs, when he was a few weeks old after he had been brought home. He looked at my face with that expression of total innocence and let a big, hearty yawn that made me laugh.

My sister, his grandmother, kept him during the day and I sometimes got to see him there. She works evenings on her job and her daughter, the baby's mother, works days. That worked out great for the childcare situation. He was always in loving hands. His life was short, but it was sweet.

We were all quite shaken by his death. While we were all struck a hard blow, my sister may have been the most heartbroken. It was her first grandchild; born to her favorite daughter, her pet.

She is an emotionally driven person to start with, let alone at times of tragedy. In that way, she and I don't have very much in common. In fact, in many ways we don't have much in common, but that's a story for another time. I think it would be beneficial to be outwardly emotional at some times, as she is, just to help clear out the pent up pain that we all feel at times of great loss. For me, crying is like trying to squeeze pumpkins through a sieve.

Anyway, it was the hardest funeral to make it through that I think I have ever attended. Afterward, I went to my sister's house and couldn't help but notice all the little toys neatly stacked in a box by the couch, the diapers on the changing table and, in my sister's bedroom where I took off the uncomfortable black suit I wear on such occasions, a stack of toys still in boxes. A little boy's Christmas gifts that he didn't live long enough to receive. The sight brought tears to even my stoic eyes.

I think my sister was angry more than hurt. I suppose many people do shake their fists at God when tragedy strikes. "How could You let this happen?" As for me, I don't know why bad things happen to good folks in spite of prayer, but that doesn't mean I am going to stop praying. I have heard that some of God's greatest gifts are unanswered prayers. We really don't know what might have happened in the future or what future suffering might have been prevented.

If you really think about it, would it have been better if the child was never born? I don't think so. I know all of our lives have been forever changed having known him, even if only for a short while. I know he liked to play in the bath and he smiled a lot for his age. He truly was a beautiful child. At only three months old, he already had his own personality and a special sparkle in his eyes.

Even through the loss, my sorrow is tempered by faith - I know we will see each other again.

Get more tongue in cheek commentary this week's issue of the Alleghany News!

Email: allnews@ls.net