Went out in the dark this morning to fetch the paper and give my dog her first shot at the lawn. Cool here, cold even, little biting breeze. Street was deserted except for a jogger way up the block. Inexplicably, you crossed my mind. Just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.
These next few days are going to be oddly juxtaposed ... The Super Bowl and the anniversary of Jesse's death ... such is the strangeness and odd ability of the human mind and heart to stretch around whatever happens.
I have a small place where I've been lighting candles for a little girl named Jane. And a young man named Jesse.
On February 8 2007 my 22 year old son Jesse died after a ten day coma, due to complications from APL leukemia. He and his younger brother had just lost their dad in January 2003, just a few months after Jesse had started college. Jesse's first round with leukemia was in July-August 2004. He recovered in time to push himself through University of Michigan on time, with good grades, chemo and all. This time, we weren't so lucky.
Sending you hugs
ReplyDeleteI do not know. But if I could return him from there for you, I would.
ReplyDeleteWent out in the dark this morning to fetch the paper and give my dog her first shot at the lawn. Cool here, cold even, little biting breeze. Street was deserted except for a jogger way up the block. Inexplicably, you crossed my mind. Just wanted you to know I was thinking about you.
ReplyDeleteThese next few days are going to be oddly juxtaposed ... The Super Bowl and the anniversary of Jesse's death ... such is the strangeness and odd ability of the human mind and heart to stretch around whatever happens.
ReplyDeleteI have a small place where I've been lighting candles for a little girl named Jane. And a young man named Jesse.