No Point Praying for the Dead

I look outside my window this morning, and already, two or three pink streaks across the skies. Chem trails they are. I wonder what they are poisoning us with this time. The pink streak turns white in time, as if they were long layered clouds, but they are not. I quickly closed my window and want to take a photo except my phone is low on battery. I expressed to my girls yesterday, that I will not be attending the vigil for Deborah by the park beneath the bridge. For me it is not a place I want to be. A park perhaps where her bench is, or Crescent beach where she was baptized would be more appropriate to me. We are all different, and just perhaps, in time we will be over it.
I heard that a young 16 year old died in the washroom of a Starbucks the other day with an overdose on fentanyl, in Coquitlam BC.  They too had a prayer vigil. Praying now only helps the family. The girls eternal destiny has already been decided by the good Lord. We cannot pray for the dead.