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"...but what is grief, if not love persevering?" ...That pretty much sizes it up. The first time my heart got so broken that it left a scar. The constant moving away from friends and later finding out that they'd moved on, but I hadn't. Then the big ones. First, my Mom, who always tried to be so equal with her sons (Libra x1000). Then my Dad. Still handling that one. My Dad but also the one who infected me with storytelling, always believed in me, and also the one human being I could talk about absolutely anything with. My friend. And even though I have friends, no one is ever getting to that Dad level. How could they? He read to me when I was four years old. But enough about me, lol. I'm just saying that your column triggered a rush of memories that aren't in the past as much as my rational mind claims they are. Your column - this column - is honest. And real. And painful. And it is a reminder. And a bro-hug. And it matters.

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I miss you, your thoughts, your feelings and your words, Will. Thanks for reading. And sharing.

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