Yesterday, Deborah's dad and I went to the cemetary. The grave is never satisfied. The men were using tractors and excavators to make new graves. We put pink roses on her grave, though fresh flowers are not encouraged in the winter. So many are taken from us by suicide. I accidentally watched a movie called 'An officer and a Gentleman'. At first I thought it was a movie about some gay experiences in the millitary. Then my husband shared that the main character's friend will not finish his training to be recruited to the airforce. He did not remember the details of the movie, so I continued watching. As it turns out, the main character's best friend takes his life in a motel closet, because he was heartbroken that his would be fiance rejected him. The coroner's truck was in the movie, and his friend had to lift his friend off the ceiling as he hung on his belt. Just a tragic, unexpected part in the film that I was not prepared to see. Eventhough my daughter jumped off a bridge, and we did not see the body until she was cleaned up by the funeral home, I can just feel the horror of such a day for parents of the past, and for parents of the today, and future who will see their loved ones gone untimely.
I also talked to a man in the doctor's office whose son died from fentanyl overdose. We are all scarred in some way. How sad. Many days and years of mourning ahead.
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