I walked, I talked, I did what I had to do. Your friends broke my heart. Their faces showed the shock of coming face-to-face with mortality. They all thought they were invincible—just as you did. They don’t know what to do with the proof that they’re not.
Alan asked if the coffin could be opened long enough for your friends to place the baseball, basketball and nerf ball in it. And your shorts—those ragged old jean shorts that you loved. If you’d had a say, you probably would have preferred to be buried in them. But, a mother has to say ‘no’ occasionally.
Your friends all signed the balls and the shorts, so you could take a part of them with you. I hurt for them . . . I hurt for me . . . I hurt for Dad and Lori. Life hurts so damn bad right now . . . I could scream from the agony.
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