I cant bear to go to the doors, because when I leave I am forced to look….I am forced as a moth to the flame…are his scratchings still there? His joy and his pride still evident in the rock? I cant bear it. I am overcome with a grief still that is debilitating at times.
Tuffy’s first words, were ‘UVSC HOCKEY’ scratched in that rock as he waited for me to finish in a meeting, at the student center, he was so proud and I always look and my heart breaks. It was what he knew. He loved to be a part of it and he was as proud as his momma and poppa were. It is all over now and he doesn’t understand, where are the guys that were his friends? Where are the halo players and the trips and the games?
I am grieving too, still, I can’t seem to help myself. The pain sometimes is raw and fresh….
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