His skin was cold.  His make up did not work.  But he still looked like Larry.  The room was trying to maintain peace while 2 toddlers pranced around giggling unaware of the grief that stared them in the face from the eyes of so many.  I stood there in pastor mode.  Clutching my bible as if it fell the world would cave in around it.  From 15 feet away sat a woman who had now lost both her sons.  80 plus years of life etched on her stone gaze.  "I’m alright Carlos.", she kept saying.  I know she is.  But Robert was not.  Larry’s partner Robert got up after the service and told us all of his love for Larry.  We were  worried he would talk for hours.  He didn’t have the strength for 45 seconds.  Aids has a hold of him and it’s hanging on tight.  But he spoke elequantly.  All the while my hand placed on his shoulder.  I cannot imagine losing Heather.  But I could for a moment as I stared into Roberts eyes.  Weak from the suffering his mind has endured he sat down. 
"Daddy?  I want to see Uncle Larry."  So I picked up So and carried her to the casket.  Seanna just thought he was asleep.  But Sohaila knew.  For the first time I saw in her eyes as she gazed at his body that something was not there.  She knew he was dead.  She knew he was not there.  Her eyes went from small to big to small to big again.  She couldn’t turn away.  I thought of only letting her get a 2 second glimpse.  But her eyes changed my mind.  Why hide truth?  They were searching.
"Daddy?"  she said.  "What biscuit?" I replied.  "Was Larry a daddy like you?"   "Why baby?"  "Ummm.  I don’t know."
No.  She did.  She kept thinking.  "Daddy, Your alive."  she said with a big grin.  "Yea baby.  I am"
"That makes me happy daddy."  she said. 
I think shes got it.