Today is the 5th anniversary of your death. I can’t pinpoint if it feels like a long time has passed, or if it feels like it was just yesterday. I for sure can’t wrap my brain around the events of my own life in the past five years but I have a very vivid recollection of standing in the cemetery the day we buried you. I was still angry at you then, for dying.
I talk to you sometimes, I’m not sure if you hear me or not. I’m not so happy these days, friend, and I’m sure it seems inclement for me to say that I wish we could switch places. I can’t seem to get this existence right and I think you probably could. I’m sorry I can’t make that happen.
I stopped by to see your dad and brother a couple of months ago. I was visiting Sarah, Kate and Erin and I made them drive through town so we could drive by your house. Your dad and brother were in the driveway and I made Sarah turn around and go back. When we pulled in they looked very confused, obviously having no idea who it was. But when the three of us piled out of the car they looked happy to see us, and a little sad too. I’m sure seeing us makes them think of you.
Oh – Todd is still hot.
I’m really lost, Tracey, and I don’t know what to do about it. I know it doesn’t do any good to look back, and I know having regrets is useless. Still, I’m having a hard time looking forward. Having a hard time feeling like there even is a forward. I’d give just about anything to go back to the days of Betty Lou and her new pair of shoes.
Shit, we used to laugh at that. I miss those really hearty, full bellied laughs that made our eyes water. I look forward to laughing like that again.
I hope where ever you are there is laughter like that for eternity.
I miss you. I love you, friend.