The last six weeks have been the worst weeks of my life. Some things I can’t write about, but I wrote about my father passing away.
Two days after my father’s death, we got the call that my father-in-law, Jerry, had also passed away while sitting in his recliner (his favorite spot).
“I’m sorry, what?” was my response when my brother-in-law called.
Last week, we laid dear Jerry to rest in Alabama under the pressing summer sun.
It seems like too much.
Then you start worrying about what other bad, sad things are going to happen. Like the other day, our dog seemed a bit lethargic and wasn’t drinking water. Anxiety seized me. Is she next?
Then it rains, and rains, and rains. And pours. And you wonder. Are the angels crying?
I’m going to a wedding reception tomorrow. The bride is one of my best friends in the world. We don’t talk as often as we should, but when we do, we’re reminded of why we always joke about being separated at birth.
Looks like it’s going to be sunny for the party.
It’s time for sunshine.
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