Thursday, April 14, 2016
Hate
I hate that I have to write letters to companies saying my son is dead. I hate that I can't call him up and ask him what he thought of a certain teacher. I hate that I have to claw back in my memory to recall the day Adam met us at Lincoln Land Community College to watch Cal play baseball (it was a beautiful day, Adam was relaxed and in a good mood). I hate that life goes on and that I ever smile or laugh and that I don't know what to say when people ask me how I am.
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1 comment:
I hate the helpless feeling that there is nothing I can do to help you and my dear friend, Kim. You're walking through the darkest of places so hold on to any light that shines through. We're here in the shadows of our own grief, waiting when you need us, hoping to be a beacon of some small point of light to guide you to the next star in the far off distance.
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