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There are times, my son, when the loss of you shoots home even more than the darkest of days in all kind of ways. The look of you that final time, those tired eyes, puffed jaw, swollen hands and arms, and the total betrayal of the professional staff with their lack of care while stayed there. The moment your heart flat-lined, the world tipped upside down, you gone from us, links cut, you dead going around my head. I could have said more had I known, if I had that time with you that day again, I could have said how much I loved you, it's depth and strength, but I didn't know that death was near, my son, my Stoic man, my one so dead.
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Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
There Are Times.
There are times, my son, when the loss of you shoots home even more than the darkest of days in all kind of ways. The look of you that final time, those tired eyes, puffed jaw, swollen hands and arms, and the total betrayal of the professional staff with their lack of care while stayed there. The moment your heart flat-lined, the world tipped upside down, you gone from us, links cut, you dead going around my head. I could have said more had I known, if I had that time with you that day again, I could have said how much I loved you, it's depth and strength, but I didn't know that death was near, my son, my Stoic man, my one so dead.
A father talks to his dead son
TerryCollett
Written by
Mar 27, 2018
Mar 27, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
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