Destined
The child of destiny kissed my face when sleep escaped out my darkened window then he touched the place where my heart used to rest before the earthquake that brought about the destiny that took him from my aching mother's arms setting the child securely in the palm of fate.
In short, try to see that, in fact, he was lucky to leave life early. That's how I feel about it now--if only I could've seen it that way when it happened. I imagine, or am guessing, that if I'd had such an outlook it could've helped prevent a total shatter. But I'm in no position to say, since it was only a very long time later that I came to view it that way. Alors, there's no way for me to know if such a view can temper deep reaction to loss, that would have to be someone's experiment.
But on arrival he was in fate's hands, his loss of peace and security was sealed at birth. It all ends early or later, but the later it goes, the worse it gets. Not that it's not awful all the way through, since, in various ways, it really is.