Mourning, goes on and on and on…

I looked up my best friend’s obituary from my childhood today. I cried like she died yesterday and not in 1988. Where did the time go? Almost 30 years without her on this Earth. I don’t have a single picture and that bothers the shit out of me. I’ve thought about calling her son and asking him for one. I probably won’t though. How would that conversation go? Yeah, hi “Joe” I know your mom’s been dead for 26 years, but I grew up in the neighborhood, and she was the only non-abusive person I knew. She was kind to me, and I wondered, could you send me a copy of her picture?
Right, that’s what everyone wants dropped into their Sunday evening. So, yeah, no. Not going to call him. I’ll get a hold of the library in “old hometown” tomorrow, and see if they’ll email me a copy of her Obituary.
Meanwhile, my BF is up in the plane. It scares the living shit out of me and makes me feel insecure. I feel terrified all the time. I hate that. I hate the terror that brings out the flop-sweat and churning stomach. I hate the tears that feel like they are never going to end. This grief thing really sucks balls.

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