Last night my dear daughter went to a viewing for a classmate who was killed in a car accident.
He was 18.
He would have been a senior this fall.
His obituary mentions that he worked for an auto shop and an ice cream shop and that he liked listening to music.
He was 18.
He was driving too fast.
He wasn't wearing his seatbelt.
He was on his way home from working at the ice cream shop.
He was just 18.
Today, I looked out at the beautiful sunny day on my way home from work and thought "What are his parents doing now? Now that he is burried and everyone else has gone home? What do you do then?"
He was only 18.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
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