You don't realize how fragile a child is until you hold their lifeless body in your arms.
As my son Joe grows I find it hard not to make comparisons between he and Marko, my first baby boy. Marko, who would be almost a man now if his life hadn't been taken so brutally on that crisp fall day. Marko was fearless, still unsteady on his feet, he was always on the move, from the moment he woke until he was too tired to keep his eyes open, there was always something to keep him busy.
I used to watch him as he ran through the apartment with the protectiveness of a father's eye. At first I'd worry when he tripped and fell, but that soon faded away as time and time again he would shake it off, usually with a giggle before climbing to his feet, ready to take on his world all over again.
I wonder sometimes what all he might have achieved had his life not ended so young, what mountains he would have climbed? Would he have been a doctor like me? Would he have chose to marry young like his mother and I, would he be thinking of starting his own family?
I never got a chance to ask Marko what he wanted to be when he grew up, only 18 months old when he died, he had few words to express himself. My daughter Jasna was different, at five she wanted the world, but her dreams ended that day as well. The only blessing that came on that day, if you could call it that, is that neither child made that final journey alone, their Mama was with them and as hard as it was to lose them all, it would have been worse to think of them alone.
Muse: Luka Kovac