the long goodbye

Myself and the BG have become accustomed to having a boy scout around who knows how to fix shit stuff and generally keep us safe. It's been something sorta like a reality show what with all the tales of sticking together through the tough times and laughing at life when it all seems too much. They were twenty and sixteen when they met. First time ever I saw his face was when he showed up in the yard with a kite just to have fun with her. Back in that day, she had a mom and dad who lived together and split the bills, but they were rarely on the same page. Into every life some rain must fall but ya know what? The ability to feel the pain and move on is a life choice that many people never make. That's the difference between a survivor and a victim.

Precisely three weeks from today my little girl will graduate with a degree in social work and a shitload of government loans. I remember when she did her senior paper on end-of-life care improvement. We would lay on her bed or in the floor and talk about how it could be different if only healthcare weren't about making money for rich people. Maybe someday.

^j^