It Still

It still hurts a lot. I don't like to admit it. I delve into the tournament and fund for months and that is good. I try to help other bereaved parents - bereaved people - and I think that that is good as well. I try hard to work on change - change in the media's response to all of this and change to physician's response to all of this.  I want to be there for Doug and I think for the most part I am there for Doug.

But the reality is that every day at least once if not a million times somebody says something or does something and I remember that you aren't here. And I brush that thought away quickly like a flip of my hair when it was long. And I usually don't think about it again until...until all of those moments I have brushed away seemingly at a drop of a hat come falling down on top of me all together. There is always the straw that broke the camel's back. Like last night. And I am back to the moment of your death. And the severe pain and heartache is back. And my mind goes thru all the "whys and it isn't fair and anger and more anger and heart wrenching sadness" again ...and I feel again like I am crawling on all fours in a war zone severely injured and in so much pain wanting - no praying really - to be shot so I will be out of my misery.