Sometimes the saddest moments come at you suddenly. They are pulled unexpectedly from bright yellow envelopes. They jump out in front of your car on a sunny day. They are called out with smiles in the rearview mirror.

“Hey, Dad! Want to hear a joke?” Gideon sang from the back seat.

I turned down the music and smiled back at him. “Of course, little man!”

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”

I nodded knowingly. The oldest joke in the book. “Okay, Gideon. Why? Why did the chicken cross the road?”

He clapped his hands in excitement and said, “He was hoping to find his family again!”

And then he laughed and laughed, and I drove on as dark clouds suddenly blocked out the sun and rain began to fall. The mournful drone of a pipe organ slowly rose from the earth and vibrated into my chest. We drifted by a crumpled object by the side of the road and I purposefully looked the other way as we passed.