"He's not coming back."
"But Dietfried-"
"He's not coming back mom."
I look into my son's eyes, the eyes of his father, so different, so broken for a man that has seen as much as him.
"I wish I..." his lip bobbed, his composure lost, "I wish I had been there to protect him."
"I know." I hold my son's head as he sobs for his little brother.
"I could have saved him."
"You don't know that."
"I could tried better..." he growled, and then stormed out.
"My sons." I felt the real tears come now, "my sons."
I suddenly understood there was nothing worse than losing a son, and it felt like I was losing them both.
My sons.
"Oh God why have you forsaken us."