My sister called me after I messaged her about
Tessa
being in hospice.
The first thing out of her mouth was:
“Why does it seem like everybody you know
is dying?”
As soon as those words were out of her mouth, she said:
“My God, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put it
that way
I’m so sorry. That was bad of me. Shit.”
I didn’t say anything for a long time after that.
“I do have some good news, though,” she said.
“I got the job I was interviewing for.”
My sister is a pharmacist.
I wanted to ask her if they make painkillers
For aching hearts. And if they made any that worked
permanently.
But I didn’t.
D.H. Lee
(via Swanksalot)