Today is the date our lab before the two we have now was born. We always used to celebrate his birthday up at the cabin. His ashes are up there.
It's also the date my best friend in my twenties killed herself. She left two little kids and a hole in my heart. I knew she was thinking of it and begged her husband to get her help, but he didn't like psychiatrists because his brother was one, and he thought it was all a bunch of nonsense and melodrama. She shot herself with her brother's gun and her kids ran in the room and found her. I was not told about it until she was buried. She's in Salt Lake City, but I don't know where. I still talk to her sometimes when I'm in the car alone. I wrote an entire book about it. You don't get over trauma like that. I never forget the date, though it's been 37 years. I miss her still.
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