I call it living

I call it living

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WpMetadataNoticeZuletzt aktualisiert Do., Okt. 8, 2015
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I was young when I was diagnosed, so my reaction is a blur. Now that I'm older, Now that I'm dying, i wanna share my story. My life is probably your least adventurous I've only ever been to the hospital and home, Until my last few weeks they were something worth remembering. ~Anonymous girl I hope this is a good start to a very epic book! Enjoy!
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aubry
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Angel

There's no easy way to say this, so let's just get it out of the way: this is the story of how my son died. There. Like ripping off the Band-Aid. Not easy or painless, but quick. Unlike ripping off a Band-Aid, though, that pain doesn't fade. It leaves a scar. It's something that follows you around, day after day, twisting its way through every moment and every interaction. It's something that defines you. You lose a bit of yourself when something like that happens, and I don't mean just the actual loss of your own flesh and blood. For me, I stopped being a dad. I spent years and years as a dad, and then he died and I wasn't a dad anymore.

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