Eighteen years

Man. Eighteen years is a long time.  Children born on the day you left us can buy cigarettes and get tattoos. They are graduating high school and going to college in the fall. Incomprehensible. We are in a time vortex, right? Are we closer to fine yet?

We miss you always. We love you always. We honor you always.

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“Nothing ever so common.”
12.20.83-5.17.98
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