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A journey that no parent can ever be prepared to take.


There are some days that just sneak up on you. It’s not that I am sitting here feeling sorrow for myself while looking at photos or even happen to of mention his name while talking to friends. It just happens, it is like a speeding freight train or a cartoon anvil falling from heaven. It’s just there…

It has only been two years and they’re days I feel I’m breaking apart. The days of solitary exile from the living hell, where I have so much hate and anger for the world, but nowhere to direct it to. it’s a terrible fate for anyone to endure, but we must face it daily. All we have is a handful of photos, a couple of certificates of birth and death and a few little trinkets. What memory is that for a parent?

This is a journey that no parent can ever be prepared to take.


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