Dale said around 6:45am that today is Friday the 13th. And for some reason it hit my like a ton of bricks. You died on November the 13th and it was a Friday. I don't think there has been a Friday the 13th in November since and if there has, I didn't recognize it.
And as the morning ticked by I thought about that morning. As I tied my running shoes I thought, "this is about the time Mom called and told me to go get Phoebe." She said, "He has fallen and you need to come. He is pretty banged up, he hit his face." I called Paw Creek, arranged to meet Phoebe and we drove to Durham. I didn't realize it was the end until Dolly called. We were almost to Duke. "How far are you? We are holding his hand and telling stories."
We held your hand, we said good bye. Mary answered questions we didn't know to ask. And now as I write and look at the clock, I think at this point we were going to get pie and coffee. We didn't know what else to do. Daddy would have gone for pie! I sat in my car and called Drew from the parking lot. And now Drew is gone too.
I ran today in a Run for Reta shirt. And Reta is gone. It is a beautiful day. I am sad. But they all would have loved this day. I may cry a little bit more, but I am going to celebrate them all when my tears are dry.
Cancer sucks, suicide sucks.
