I have been leaving shiny things and little pieces of twine in my yard all summer in hopes of attracting a crow friend…no friend yet but the lawncare guys have cussed me out in three different languages.
I really hate when anyone looses a loved one around me because it reveals this giant grief hole that lives in my chest….If you need me I’ll be crying in my shower for the next few days.
It’s the guns. Not the doors. Not video games. Not Godlessness. It is the guns. It’s the fucking guns. It’s the guns. The guns. The guns. For fuck’s sake, what are we doing?
I think one day we will talk about cell phones the same way we do cars. Like one day you will walk into an apple store and the associate will say, “ohh your model needs a high mileage battery change.” And that will make sense to everyone.
Grief is such a strange thing because sometimes I talk about my Mom freely and with joy. Other times just saying her name in my head brings me to tears.