Grief and guilt
I am about to share something I hardly ever talk about. It’s not that I keep it a secret, but I just never seem to have the energy to talk about it. It’s not that I have the energy today, but sometimes, you gatta do what you gatta do when you need to face your devils and demons and black holes. No one ever slayed a demon by running away from them. So, indulge me. I have a request though; I do not want sympathy. Over two decades, the amount of sympathy I have received cannot run out even if I lived to be as old as Methuselah of the Bible. Loss. Specifically, loss of a child. I had a son. He would be twenty one today #gasp. He only lived for eight months. No, he was not sick. No, he did not have an accident. He was only teething and we had both spent a very uncomfortable night. When morning came, I took him to a dispensary nearby. I was tired and sleepy and I guess not paying much attention, that is how I forgot to ask the doctor what he was injecting into his little veins. T