Thursday, September 11, 2003

Today is nine months since you died. Jack says it feels like it has been years. It is also the anniversary of the day the buildings went down in New York and so many people died there and here in Virginia. I never told you but someone I sat next to in a class in my high school died when the plane hit the Pentagon. I don't want it to be more than a year since you died.

It is cool outside. I was thinking we are moving from Slurpee season to hot chocolate at Starbuck's season. I told David and Jack on the way to school this morning that if we leave a little early we can stop for hot chocolates.

I miss trying to keep you warm. My friend, whose wife had a transplant, is bringing her home. I am scared but happy and hopeful for them. I bought them some strong soap. It felt good to be able to help. I also bought their kids some Purell on a lanyard. I found that when you had to stay home and in isolation last fall.

Your birthday is coming up. Then your death day. Oh man.

I gotta find some happy things to write.

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