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As a parent, It's my most terrifying thought...
My wife's family lost her little sister in a car wreck when she was nine. Her little sister was five. Her family lived haunted in that house for fifteen years until my wife moved out and her parents divorced. They still can't discuss it...I respect that.
If I lost one of mine, I imagine I will never know true joy that would be left unmarred by the memory. It would plague me. I doubt I would ever feel complete again.
BUT...twenty years later...after the divorce, my wife's parents are new people. They laugh readily and loud. They bask in our children's glow. They have found their joy once again. I just have to think that if they relied on each other more, maybe sought a professional in grief counseling, they could have found that earlier...and together.
God Bless.
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The sad thing is... as you get older you come to realize that you don't so much pilot your life, as you just try to hold on, in a screaming, defiant ball of white-knuckle anxious fury 
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