My twelve-year-old grandson told me that Acme has a special on their fried (and grilled) chicken on Mondays - eight pieces for $6.99. He loves it!
Greg didn't tell me about the special but he did tell me that Acme had the best fried chicken - anywhere.
Michael and I decided to check out Acme's rep and try the chicken tonight. As we were driving to the store to pick up the chicken, I had an image in my mind of Greg, running through the door at his home after work with chicken for his family's dinner. Happier times.
Greg loved his family and wanted to be their champion- their hero. He wanted his sons to be proud of him. To fall short of that was his greatest suffering - and I watched him suffer for years and years.
He kept his secrets well. For every odd behavior, there was a completely plausibleexcuse reason. But he knew. We didn't - but he did. His shame - and his guilt broke my heart over and over again. Even though I didn't understand where it came from, I cried for Greg's pain and sadness - for years.
I cry for myself, now - for the loss of my sweet son, and for the hole that his death left in my heart - and in my life. I cry for his brothers - his wife - his children, but I no longer have to cry for Greg. Greg's suffering is over - and he is at peace.
I wonder if there is fried chicken in Heaven. The Acme's chicken was really good, but if there's fried chicken in Heaven, I can hardly wait to hear about it from Greg.
Greg didn't tell me about the special but he did tell me that Acme had the best fried chicken - anywhere.
Michael and I decided to check out Acme's rep and try the chicken tonight. As we were driving to the store to pick up the chicken, I had an image in my mind of Greg, running through the door at his home after work with chicken for his family's dinner. Happier times.
Greg loved his family and wanted to be their champion- their hero. He wanted his sons to be proud of him. To fall short of that was his greatest suffering - and I watched him suffer for years and years.
He kept his secrets well. For every odd behavior, there was a completely plausible
I cry for myself, now - for the loss of my sweet son, and for the hole that his death left in my heart - and in my life. I cry for his brothers - his wife - his children, but I no longer have to cry for Greg. Greg's suffering is over - and he is at peace.
I wonder if there is fried chicken in Heaven. The Acme's chicken was really good, but if there's fried chicken in Heaven, I can hardly wait to hear about it from Greg.
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