Today is the anniversary of Gabe's death. It's very sad to say, but I don't really miss him anymore. :( I still grieve him and wish he were here, but my life is so different now from what it was when he died 23 years ago that I can't really miss his place in it. I sure wish I could talk to him again though. How do some of us just get born with that propensity towards addiction and some of us get off scot-free? I'm thankful for it, in my case, but sometimes it really feels like Gabe was dealt an unfair hand in life. Haha I'm sure he would have agreed. He always felt like he was getting pooped on. Poor guy.
Today was just work, work, work, work, work. Spackle, spackle, spackle, spackle, spackle. If dad could be here two or three more days, we'd be in good shape. As it is, I feel like it's going to take me a month to get it done by myself...unless I continue to block out the world just to work on it, which I don't know if I'll have the willpower to do without dad grinding away. We're so close though!
Comments
Post a Comment